The  NORTH  PACIFIC 


A  STORY  OF  THE 

RUSSO-JAPANESE 

WAR 


.ViLUS-  BOYD  ALLEN 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


S 


TO  MY  FRIEND 

COMMANDER  WILLIAM  H.  H.  SOUTHERLAND,  U.  S.  N. 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED 


MAN  OVERBOARD!1 


The  North  Pacific 

Jl  Story  of  the  HussO'Japanese 
War 

20400 


By 
Willis  Doyd  Allen 

'I 
AxitHor  of  "Navy  Blue"   and  "Cleared  for  Action" 


New  York 
E.  P.  Dxitton  CgL  Company 

ai  "West  Twenty-tHird  Street 
19O5 


COPYRIGHT,  1905 

BY 
E.  P.  BUTTON  &  CO. 


Published,  September,  1905 


Ube  Iknicherbocfeer  press,  IRew 


PREFACE. 

AS  in  the  preparation  of  Navy  Blue  and  Cleared 
for  Action,  the  author  has  taken  great  pains  to 
verify  the  main  facts  of  the  present  story,  so  far  as 
they  are  concerned  with  the  incidents  of  the  great 
struggle  still  in  progress  between  the  empires  of  the 
East  and  the  West.  He  acknowledges  most  grate- 
fully the  assistance  received  from  the  office  of  the 
Secretary  of  the  Navy,  from  ex-Secretary  John  D. 
Long,  and  from  Commander  W.  H.  H.  Souther- 
land,  now  commanding  the  U.  S.  Cruiser  Cleveland, 
Commander  Austin  M.  Knight,  President  of  the 
Board  on  Naval  Ordnance,  and  Chief  Engineer  Ed- 
ward Farmer,  retired. 

W.  B.  A. 

BOSTON,  June,  1905. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  TRIAL  OF  THE  "  RETVIZAN  "  i 

II.  MAN  OVERBOARD  !     .        .        .        .        .        .        .16 

III.  SEALED  ORDERS         .        .        .        .  .        .29 

IV.  UNCLE  SAM'S  PACKING 43 

V.  OTO'S  STRANGE  VISIT 53 

VI.  A  SCRAP  IN  MALTA 67 

VII.  O-HANA-SAN'S  PARTY 84 

VIII.  A  BATCH  OF  LETTERS 93 

IX.  AT  THE  CZAR'S  COMMAND 102 

X.  THE  FIRST  BLOW 114 

XI.  IN  THE  MIKADO'S  CAPITAL 125 

XII.  BETWEEN  Two  FIRES 137 

XIII.  WYNNIE  MAKES  A  BLUNDER 146 

XIV.  THE  ATTACK  OF  THE  "OCTOPUS"    .        .        .        .156 
XV.  UNDER  THE  RED  CROSS 165 

XVI.  THE  LAST  TRAIN  FROM  PORT  ARTHUR      .        .        .     175 
XVII.  DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE 184 

XVIII.    OSHIMA  GOES  A-FlSHING 2O2 

XIX.  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS 218 

XX.  THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR 235 

XXI.  THE  FALL  OF  PORT  ARTHUR 248 

XXII.  ON  BOARD  THE  "  KUSHIRO  " 260 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII.  TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA 274 

XXIV.  THE  LITTLE  FATHER 286 

XXV.  LARKIN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS     ....    297 

XXVI.  "  THE  DESTINY  OF  AN  EMPIRE  "      .        .        .        .308 

XXVII.  ORDERED  HOME 319 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"  MAN  OVERBOARD  ! " Frontispiece  24 

"Oro  CLIMBED  THE  RAIL  LIKE  A  MONKEY"      ...  64 

IN  STRANGE  WATERS 82 

PICKED  UP  BY  THE  SEARCHLIGHT 119 

THE  SINKING  OF  THE  "  PETROPAVLOVSK  "    ....  164 

THE  END  OF  THE  TRAITOR 231 

ON  THE  DOGGER  BANK 244 

THE  OSAKA  BABIES 253 


THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

CHAPTER   I. 

THE  TRIAL  OF  THE  "  RETVIZAN." 

IT  was  a  clear,  cool  afternoon  in  early  September, 
1901.  In  the  country  the  tawny  hillsides  were 
warmed  to  gold  by  the  glow  of  the  autumn  sun, 
while  here  and  there  a  maple  lifted  its  crimson  torch 
as  if  the  forest  were  kindling  where  the  rays  were 
the  hottest.  Brown,  golden,  and  scarlet  leaves 
floated  slowly  downward  to  the  ground;  flocks  of 
dark-winged  birds  drifted  across  the  sky  or  flitted 
silently  through  the  shadows  of  the  deep  wood ;  the 
call  of  the  harvester  to  his  straining  team  sounded 
across  the  fields  for  a  moment — then  all  was  still 
again.  But  for  the  creak  of  a  waggon,  the  distant 
bark  of  a  dog,  the  fitful  whisper  and  rustle  of  the 
wind  in  the  boughs  overhead,  the  whirring  chatter 
of  a  squirrel,  the  world  seemed  lost  in  a  day-dream 
of  peace. 

i 


2  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Only  a  few  miles  away  the  air  was  rent  by  a 
clamour  of  discordant  sound.  Ponderous  hammers 
beat  upon  plates  of  iron  and  brass;  machinery 
rumbled  and  shrieked  and  hissed  at  its  work;  a 
thousand  men,  labouring  as  if  for  their  lives,  pulled, 
pushed,  lifted,  pounded,  shouted  orders,  warnings, 
replies  above  the  din  that  beat  upon  the  ear  like  a 
blacksmith's  blows  upon  an  anvil.  From  the  tall 
chimneys  poured  endless  volumes  of  black  smoke 
that  were  reflected  in  the  blue  waters  of  the  river 
and  mimicked  by  innumerable  puffs  of  steam.  The 
place  was  like  a  volcano  in  the  first  stages  of  erup- 
tion. A  vast  upheaval  seemed  imminent.  Yet  the 
countless  toilers  worked  securely  and  swiftly,  fash- 
ioning that  dread  floating  citadel  of  modern  warfare, 
the  Battleship. 

On  this  same  afternoon,  at  the  outer  gate  of  the 
Cramp  Shipbuilding  Works,  two  strangers  applied 
for  admission,  presenting  to  the  watchman  a  properly 
accredited  pass.  They  were  young  men,  under  the 
average  stature,  dark-skinned,  and  almost  notably 
quiet  in  appearance  and  manner.  Although  their 
dress  was  that  of  the  American  gentleman,  a  very 
slight  accent  in  their  speech,  their  jet-black  hair, 
and  a  trifling  obliquity  in  their  eyes,  would  have  at 
once  betrayed  their  nationality  to  a  careful  observer. 
He  would  have  known  that  they  were  of  a  people 
famous  for  their  shrewdness,  their  gentle  manners, 


THE  TRIAL   OF  THE  "RETVIZAN."  3 

their  bravery,  their  quick  perceptions,  and  their 
profound  patience  and  tireless  resolution  in  accom- 
plishing their  ends — the  "Yankees  of  the  Orient  " — 
the  Japanese. 

The  watchman,  glanced  at  them  carelessly,  rather 
impressed  by  the  visitors'  immaculate  attire — both 
wore  silk  hats  and  black  coats  of  correct  Broadway 
cut — and  asked  if  they  wanted  an  attendant  to  show 
them  about  the  works.  They  said,  ' '  No,  thank  you. 
We  shall  remain  but  short  time.  We  can  find  our 
ways";  and,  bowing,  passed  into  the  yard. 

Their  curiosity  seemed  very  slight,  as  to  the 
buildings  and  machinery.  With  light,  quick  steps 
they  passed  through  one  or  two  of  the  most  im- 
portant shops,  then  turned  to  the  river-side,  and 
halted  beside  the  huge  ship  that  was  on  the  stocks, 
almost  ready  for  launching.  Here  for  the  first  time 
their  whole  expression  became  alert,  their  eyes  keen 
and  flashing.  Nobody  paid  much  attention  to  them 
as  they  passed  along  the  walk,  scrutinising,  it  would 
seem,  every  individual  bolt  and  plate. 

"A  couple  o'  Dagos!  "  remarked  one  workman  to 
another,  nodding  over  his  shoulder  as  he  carried  his 
end  of  a  heavy  steel  bar. 

At  the  gangway  the  visitors  met  their  first  ob- 
stacle. A  man  in  undress  uniform,  with  a  full  beard 
and  stern  countenance,  waved  them  back.  "No 
admittance  to  the  deck,"  he  said  briefly. 


4  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  two  Japanese  bowed  blandly,  and  spoke  a 
few  words  together  in  soft  undertones  and  gutterals, 
as  incomprehensible  to  a  Western  ear  as  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Ojibways.  Then  they  bowed  again, 
smiled  and  said  " Thank  you,  sir,"  and  moved  away. 
The  Russian  officer  watched  them  sharply  until  they 
disappeared  around  the  bows  of  the  vessel,  mutter- 
ing to  himself  under  his  bushy  moustache. 

Once  out  of  sight  the  languor  and  mild  indiffer- 
ence of  the  strangers  vanished.  They  spoke  swiftly, 
with  excited,  but  graceful  gestures.  Then  one  of 
them  pointed  to  the  snowy  curve  of  the  battleship's 
prow,  above  their  heads.  There,  gleaming  in  the 
sunset  light,  shone  the  word,  in  gold  letters, 

PETBN3AHr"b 

"RETVIZAN,"  murmured  the  other;  "RETVI- 
ZAN." Adding  in  his  own  language,  "She  will 
have  her  trial  trip  late  in  October,  sailing  from 
Boston.  Then — we  shall  see!  " 

"We  shall  see." 

" Sayonara,  Retvizan  !  "  said  the  first  speaker 
with  just  a  trace  of  mockery  in  his  tone,  as  the  two 
turned  toward  the  gate.  As  they  passed  through, 
on  their  way  out,  they  bowed  and  smiled  to  the 
gate-keeper.  Once  more  they  were  suave,  languid 
little  gentlemen  of  fashion,  travelling  for  pleasure. 


THE  TRIAL   OF  THE  "RETV1ZAN."  5 

It  was  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  October 
2ist  when  the  last  tug-load  of  "distinguished  visi- 
tors "  scrambled  up  the  steep  ladder  to  the  deck  of 
the  Retvizan,  which  had  lain  all  night  in  President's 
Roads,  Boston  Harbour,  waiting  for  her  trial  trip. 
In  five  minutes  more  the  battleship  was  under  way, 
the  smoke  rolling  from  her  three  huge  funnels  as  she 
forged  ahead  slowly,  on  her  way  to  the  open  sea. 

It  was  an  oddly  composed  crowd  that  gathered 
forward  of  the  great  turret  from  which  projected  two 
twelve-inch  guns.  The  crew  consisted  of  Russian 
"Jackies,"  in  man-of-war  rig;  but  the  spectators 
were  the  invited  guests  of  the  builders  from  whose 
control  the  ship  had  not  yet  passed.  There  were 
lawyers,  naval  officers,  engineers,  and  politicians, 
with  one  or  two  officials  of  the  city  and  State  gov- 
ernment— all  bound  to  have  a  good  time,  whether 
the  Retvizan  should  prove  slow  or  fast.  They  but- 
toned their  overcoats  up  around  their  throats — for 
the  day  was  chilly,  and  the  draught  made  by  the 
vessel  as  she  gathered  speed  was  sharp — and  in  little 
knots,  here  and  there,  joked,  laughed,  and  sang  like 
boys  on  a  lark. 

One  young  man  was  constantly  moving  about, 
alert  and  active,  interested  apparently  in  everything 
and  everybody  on  board.  Most  of  the  Boston  men 
seemed  to  know  him,  and  exchanged  jokes  with  him 
as  he  passed. 


6  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

' 'Hullo,  Larkin,  you  here?"  called  out  one. 
"Better  go  ashore  while  there  's  time — you  '11  be 
sea-sick  when  we  get  outside!  " 

"I  never  yet  was  sick  of  seeing!"  retorted  the 
young  man.  "The  Bulletin  must  have  a  good  story 
on  to-day's  trip." 

"Why  did  n't  they  send  a  reporter  that  knew  his 
business?"  jested  another. 

"Don't  you  say  anything,  Alderman,  or  I  '11  fix 
up  an  account  of  you  that  will  make  you  turn  pale 
when  you  read  it  to-morrow  morning,"  said  the 
jolly  reporter;  and  off  he  went,  followed  by  a  chorus 
of  laughter. 

Fred  Larkin  was  one  of  the  most  valued  reporters 
on  the  Boston  Daily  Bulletin.  He  had  risen  to  his 
present  position,  from  that  of  mere  space  writer,  by 
sheer  determination,  pluck,  and  hard  work,  which 
characteristics,  backed  by  fine  character  and  a  sunny 
good-humour,  made  him  a  favourite  with  both  his 
superiors  and  his  comrades  on  the  staff.  Three 
years  before  this  sea-trip  Fred  had  been  sent  to 
Cuba  as  war  correspondent  for  the  Bulletin,  had  per- 
formed one  or  two  remarkable  feats  in  journalism, 
had  been  captured  by  the  Spaniards,  and  on  the 
very  day  when  he  expected  to  be  executed  in  San- 
tiago as  a  spy  had  been  exchanged  and  set  free. 

Meanwhile  on  this  same  perilous  journey  inland, 
he  had  met  a  young  Spanish  girl  named  Isabella 


THE    TRIAL   OF   THE  "RETVIZAN."  / 

Cueva,  who  subsequently  appealed  to  him  for  pro- 
tection, and  whom,  a  few  months  later,  he  married. 
They  now  had  one  bright  little  dark-haired  boy,  a 
year  old,  named  Pedro. 

"He  's  a  wonderful  child,"  Larkin  would  assert. 
" Talks  Spanish  like  a  native,  and  cries  in  English!  " 

Besides  the  company  of  invited  guests  on  the 
Retvizan,  the  officers  of  the  ship-building  com- 
pany, and  the  Russian  crew,  there  were  a  number 
of  supernumeraries — butlers,  cooks,  and  stewards, 
of  various  nationalities. 

About  a  week  before  the  ship  was  to  sail  from 
Philadelphia,  two  Japanese  boys  applied  for  a  posi- 
tion on  board  as  stewards.  They  were  dressed 
neatly,  after  the  custom  of  their  race,  but  their 
spotless  clothes  were  threadbare,  and  as  they 
seemed  needy  and  brought  the  best  of  references 
from  Washington  families,  they  were  hired  at  once. 
It  was  true  that  they  seemed  unable  to  speak  or  to 
understand  more  than  a  few  words  of  English,  but 
their  slight  knowledge  of  the  language  appeared  to 
be  sufficient  for  their  duties,  and  the  Japanese  are 
known  to  be  the  neatest,  quickest,  most  efficient 
little  waiters  that  can  be  procured.  Many  of  them, 
as  their  employers  knew,  were  engaged  in  this 
humble  service  on  United  States  war-ships,  where 
they  gave  complete  satisfaction. 

As  the  great  vessel  swung  out  upon  her  course, 


8  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

the  two  boyish  Japs  appeared.  They  had  come  on 
board  in  Philadelphia,  and  were  soon  equipped  for 
their  work,  with  white  aprons  and  dark  suits.  Hav- 
ing with  some  difficulty  made  the  head  steward 
understand  when  and  for  what  they  had  been  en- 
gaged, they  had  entered  at  once  upon  their  duties. 

Nobody  took  much  notice  of  the  little  fellows,  as 
they  glided  silently  to  and  fro,  giving  deft  touches 
to  the  lunch  table,  or  assisting  a  stout  alderman  to 
don  his  overcoat.  Only  once  did  they  seem  discon- 
certed. That  was  when  a  Russian  under-officer, 
with  bushy  beard  and  moustache,  put  his  "head  in- 
side the  cabin-door.  One  of  the  Japanese  started 
so  nervously  that  he  nearly  upset  a  water-carafe  on 
the  table.  As  he  adjusted  it,  he  spoke  a  few  words 
in  a  low  tone  to  his  companion,  and  both  remained 
with  their  backs  to  the  door,  although  the  Russian 
summoned  them  roughly. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  go  when  he  called? "  demanded 
the  head  steward  crossly,  a  minute  later,  when  he 
had  himself  given  the  officer  the  glass  of  water  he 
wanted. 

4 'No  speak  Russian.  No  un'erstan',"  said  the 
little  Jap  with  a  meek  gesture. 

"Well,  you  might  have  known  what  he  asked 
for,"  retorted  his  superior.  "Look  sharp  now,  and 
attend  to  your  business.  You  ain't  here  for  fun, 
you ! " 


THE    TRIAL   OF   THE   "RETVIZAN"  9 

The  steward  addressed  shot  a  quick  glance  at  the 
other,  but  neither  said  a  word,  as  they  resumed 
their  tasks. 

The  Retvizan  moved  proudly  northward,  throw- 
ing out  a  great  wave  on  each  side  of  her  white  prow 
and  leaving  a  wake  of  tossing  foam  stretching  far 
astern.  The  harbour  islands  were  now  dim  in  the 
distance  and  the  shore  of  the  mainland  might  have 
been  that  of  Patagonia,  for  all  the  sign  of  human 
life  it  showed.  Now,  indeed,  the  vessel  drew  in, 
or,  rather,  the  coastline  veered  eastward  as  if  to 
intercept"  her  in  her  swift  course.  The  Magnolia 
shore  came  in  sight,  with  its  toy  cottages  and  hotels, 
as  deserted  as  autumn  birds'-nests.  Norman's  Woe 
was  left  behind,  backed  by  dark  pine  forests,  and 
Gloucester,  nestling  in  its  snug  harbour,  peered  out 
at  the  passing  monster.  Almost  directly  in  front 
the  lights  of  Thatcher's  Island  reared  themselves, 
two  priestly  fingers  raised  in  blessing  over  the  toilers 
of  the  sea. 

Now  the  battleship  began  to  quiver,  as  the  in- 
creased throbbing  of  her  engines,  the  monstrous 
fore-waves,  and  the  volumes  of  black  smoke  rushing 
from  her  stacks  told  the  excited  passengers  that  she 
was  settling  down  to  her  best  pace  for  the  crucial 
test  of  speed.  A  government  tug  was  passed,  and 
for  ten  miles  the  Retvizan  ploughed  her  way  fiercely 
northward,  never  deviating  a  foot  to  right  or  left, 


10  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

crushing  the  waves  into  a  boiling  cauldron  of  seeth- 
ing foam,  dashing  the  spray  high,  into  the  sunshine, 
until  the  second  stake-boat,  off  Cape  Porpoise,  was 
passed,  and  with  a  long  sweep  outward  she  turned, 
to  retrace  the  ten-mile  course  more  swiftly  than  ever. 

Fred  Larkin  pervaded,  so  to  speak,  the  ship. 
Note-book  in  hand,  he  interviewed  the  officers, 
chaffed  the  Russian  Jackies,  darted  in  and  out  of 
the  cabins,  and  ranged  boldly  through  the  hidden 
passages  below.  In  process  of  time  he  reached  the 
engine-room,  smearing  himself  with  oil  on  the  way, 
from  every  steel  rod  he  touched. 

No  sooner  had  he  entered  the  room  than  he  was 
pounced  upon  by  one  of  the  three  or  four  engineers, 
naval  and  civil,  who  were  busily  watching  the  work 
of  the  great,  pulsing  heart  of  the  vessel. 

" Larkin!  How  are  you,  old  fellow?"  And  his 
hands  were  grasped  and  wrung,  over  and  over,  re- 
gardless of  oil. 

"Holmes!  Well,  I  did  n't  guess  you  were  here! 
Shake  again ! ' ' 

It  was  Lieutenant-Commander  Holmes,  Assistant 
Engineer,  who,  with  several  subordinate  officers, 
two  of  them  from  the  Academy,  had  been  detached 
by  the  Navy  Department  to  watch  the  trip  of  the 
Retvizan  and  report  upon  it.  They  mingled  freely 
with  the  Russian  engineers,  and  compared  notes 
with  then\  as  the  trial  progressed. 


THE    TRIAL   OF   THE   "RETVIZAN."  II 

Norman  Holmes  explained  this  to  the  young  re- 
porter, who  was  an  old  and  tried  friend. 

"Where  is  Rexdale  stationed?" 

"He  's  doing  shore  duty  in  Washington  just  now. 
Between  you  and-  me,  Fred,  I  think  he  '11  be  a 
lieutenant-commander  before  long,  and  may  com- 
mand one  of  the  smaller  vessels  on  this  station — a 
despatch-boat  or  something  of  the  kind.  I  only 
wish  I  could  be  assigned  to  the  same  ship!  You 
know  Dave  and  I  were  chums  in  the  Academy." 

"I  know.  And  the  trifling  circumstance  of  each 
marrying  the  other's  sister  has  n't  tended  to  produce 
a  coldness,  I  suppose!  But  is  n't  that  an  awfully 
quick  promotion  for  Rexdale?  The  last  I  heard  of 
him  he  was  only  a  lieutenant." 

"Well,  we  've  built  so  many  new  ships  lately," 
said  Holmes,  with  his  eye  on  the  steam  gauge, 
"that  it  has  been  hard  work  to  man  them.  Two 
or  three  classes  have  been  graduated  at  the  Academy 
two  years  ahead  of  time,  and  promotions  have  been 
rapid  all  along  the  line.  The  man  that  commanded 
the  gunboat  Osprey,  for  instance,  is  now  on  an  ar- 
moured cruiser,  taking  the  place  of  an  officer  who  has 
been  moved  up  to  the  battleship  Arizona,  and  so  on. 
Why,  in  the  course  of  ten  years  or  more  I  may  be  a 
commander — who  knows?  "  he  added,  with  a  laugh. 

"I  suppose  you  hear  from  'Sandy  '  and — what  did 
you  fellows  call  Tickerson?" 


12  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"  'Girlie  '  ?  Oh,  yes,  I  hear  from  them.  Both  are 
in  the  East  somewhere.  Sandy's  last  letter  was  from 
Guam.  He  's  a  lieutenant  now,  and  so  is  Tickerson." 

"Well,  I  must  n't  stay  here,  bothering  you. 
There  's  a  queer  crowd  on  board — a  mixed  lot. 
Seen  those  little  Japs?  " 

"No.     What  are  they  here  f or ? ' ' 

"Oh,  just  waiters.  But  it  's  odd  to  see  Japanese 
on  a  Russian  man-of-war,  considering  that — hullo, 
here  's  one  of  them,  now!  " 

Sure  enough,  a  small,  white-aproned  figure  came 
daintily  picking  his  way  down  into  the  jarring, 
clanging,  oily  engine-room.  He  seemed  a  bit 
troubled  to  find  two  of  its  occupants  regarding  him 
intently,  as  he  stepped  upon  the  iron  floor. 

"Mist'  Johnson  no  here?"  he  asked  innocently, 
gazing  around  him. 

"Johnson?  No,  not  that  I  know  of,"  replied 
Holmes.  "What  's  his  position." 

"He—he  from  Boston,"  said  the  Jap,  after  a 
slight  hesitation. 

"Look  here,"  broke  in  Larkin,  in  his  offhand 
way,  "what  's  your  name,  young  fellow?  " 

The  steward  looked  into  the  reporter's  frank, 
kindly  face,  then  answered,  "Oto." 

"Oto,"  repeated  Fred.  "That  's  a  nice  easy 
name  to  pronounce,  if  it  is  Japanese.  Well,  Oto, 
how  about  your  chum — what  's  his  name?  " 


THE    TRIAL   OF  THE  "RETVIZAN."  13 

"Oshima.     We  from  Japan." 

"So  I  suspected/*  laughed  Fred.  "Been  over 
long?" 

The  boy  looked  puzzled. 

"When  did  you -leave  home?  " 

Oto  shook  his  head.  "Un'erstan*  ver'  leetle 
English,"  he  said. 

"Well,  run  along  and  find  Mr.  Johnson,  of 
Boston.  Norman,  good-bye.  I  '11  look  in  on  you 
again  before  the  end  of  the  trip.  Where  did  Oto 
go?" 

The  little  Jap  had  melted  away — whether  upward 
or  downward,  no  one  could  say,  he  had  vanished  so 
quickly. 

Larkin  shook  his  head  and  made  a  few  cabalistic 
curves  and  dots  in  his  note-book,  then  reascended 
the  stairs  to  the  upper  deck.  Through  a  winding 
staircase  in  a  hollow  mast  he  made  his  way  to  one 
of  the  fighting-tops.  Singularly  enough  the  other 
Japanese  waiter,  Oshima,  was  there  before  him. 
As  Fred  emerged  on  the  circular  platform,  the  boy 
thrust  a  scrap  of  paper  under  the  folds  of  his  jacket 
and  hurried  down  toward  the  deck.  Again  the  re- 
porter made  a  note  in  his  book,  and  then  gave  a  few 
moments  to  the  magnificent  view  of  the  ship  and 
the  open  sea  through  which  it  was  cleaving  its  way. 

Directly  before  and  below  him  lay  the  forward 
deck  of  the  Retvizan,  cleared  almost  as  completely 


14  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

as  if  for  action.  Most  of  the  visitors  had  withdrawn 
from  the  keen  wind  to  the  shelter  of  the  cabin, 
where,  doubtless,  the  question  of  luncheon  was 
already  exciting  interest.  Beneath  the  fighting- 
top  was  the  bridge,  where  the  highest  officials  on 
the  ship  were  watching  her  progress.  Just  beyond 
was  the  forward  turret,  with  its  projecting  guns, 
their  muzzles  peacefully  closed. 

The  vessel  now  reached  the  first  stake-boat  once 
more,  and  turning,  again  started  over  the  course  at 
half-speed,  for  the  tedious  process  of  standardising 
the  screw ;  that  is,  determining  how  many  revolutions 
went  to  a  given  rate  of  speed.  The  engineers  were 
busy  with  their  calculations.  Larkin  joined  the 
hungry  crowd  in  the  cabin,  giving  a  last  look  at  the 
blue  sea,  the  misty  shore  line,  and  the  dim  bulk  of 
Agamenticus  reared  against  the  western  sky. 

When  the  Retvizan  passed  Cape  Ann,  on  her 
homeward  trip,  the  great  lamps  on  Thatcher's  Island 
were  alight,  and  the  waves  sparkled  in  the  glow.  It 
was  nearly  nine  o'clock  that  evening  when  the  chains 
rattled  through  the  hawse-holes,  in  the  lower  har- 
bour, as  the  battleship  came  to  anchor.  Many  had 
been  the  guesses  as  to  her  speed.  Had  she  come  up 
to  her  builders'  expectations?  Had  she  passed  the 
test  successfully?  These  were  the  questions  that 
flew  to  and  fro  among  the  passengers,  crowding 
about  the  gangway  beneath  which  the  tug  was  soon 


THE    TRIAL   OF   THE   "RETV1ZAN."  15 

rising  and  falling.  At  the  last  moment  the  approxi- 
mate result  of  the  engineers'  calculations  was  given 
out.  The  ship  had  responded  nobly  to  the  demand 
upon  her  mighty  machinery.  Splendidly  built 
throughout,  perfectly  equipped  for  manslaughter 
and  for  the  protection  of  her  crew,  obedient  to  the 
lightest  touch  of  the  master-hand  that  should  guide 
her  over  the  seas  in  warfare  or  in  peace,  the  Retvizan 
had  shown  herself  to  be  one  of  the  swiftest  and  most 
powerful  war-ships  in  the  world.  For  twenty  miles, 
in  the  open  ocean,  she  had  easily  made  a  little  over 
eighteen  knots  an  hour. 

In  the  confusion  of  going  on  board  the  tug  and 
disembarking  in  the  darkness,  no  one  observed  the 
two  Japanese  waiters,  who  must  have  forgotten  even 
to  ask  for  their  wages.  Certain  it  is  that  Oto  and 
Oshima  were  among  the  very  first  to  land  on  the 
Boston  wharf,  and  to  disappear  in  one  of  the  gloomy 
cross-streets  that  branch  off  from  Atlantic  Avenue. 


CHAPTER   II. 

"MAN  OVERBOARD!" 

"  TXT"  ELL,  we  're  out  of  the  harbour  safely,  Cap- 
V  V  tain,"  said  Executive  Officer  Staples  with 
a  sigh  of  relief,  as  he  spread  out  the  chart  of  the 
Massachusetts  coast  and  glanced  at  the  "tell-tale" 
compass.  "No  more  trouble  till  we  get  down  by 
the  Pollock  Rip  Shoals." 

"Anybody  would  think  you  had  been  taking  a 
battleship  out  from  under  the  enemy's  guns," 
laughed  Lieutenant-Commander  David  Rexdale. 
"Don't  talk  about  'trouble,'  Tel.,  while  it  's  day- 
light, off  a  home  port,  in  good  weather!  " 

The  two  were  standing  in  the  chart- room,  just 
behind  the  bridge  of  the  U.  S.  gunboat  Osprey,  as 
the  vessel,  leaving  Boston  Outer  Light  behind, 
headed  slightly  to  the  south  of  east.  Rexdale,  as 
his  old  chum  Holmes  had  predicted,  was  now  in 
command  of  the  Osprey,  and  was  taking  her  to 
Washington  for  a  practice  trip,  on  which  the  crew 
would  be  drilled  in  various  manoeuvres,  including 
target-practice.  Lieutenant  Richard  Staples,  his 

16 


"MAN  OVERBOARD!"  IJ 

executive,  had  been  the  captain's  classmate  at  An- 
napolis. He  was  lanky  and  tall,  and  at  the  Academy 
had  soon  gained  the  sobriquet  of  "  Telegraph  Pole," 
or  "Tel.,"  for  short;  a  name  that  had  stuck  to  him 
thus  far  in  his  naval  career.  He  was  a  Calif ornian, 
and,  while  very  quiet  in  his  manner,  was  a  dangerous 
man  when  aroused — as  the  upper-class  cadets  had 
discovered  when  they  undertook  to  "run  "  him. 
Rexdale  was  from  the  rural  districts  of  New 
Hampshire,  and  was  known  to  his  classmates  as 
"Farmer,"  a  term  which  was  now  seldom  applied 
to  the  dignified  lieutenant-commmander. 

The  Osprey — to  complete  our  introductions — was 
a  lively  little  member  of  Uncle  Sam's  navy,  mount- 
ing several  six-pounders  and  a  four-inch  rifled  gun, 
besides  smaller  pieces  for  close  quarters.  She  had 
taken  part  in  the  blockade  of  Santiago,  and  while 
not  as  modern  in  her  appointments  as  some  of  her 
bigger  and  younger  sister-ships,  had  given  a  good 
account  of  herself  in  the  stirring  days  when  Cervera's 
fleet  was  cooped  up  behind  the  Cuban  hills,  and 
made  their  final  hopeless  dash  for  freedom.  Rex- 
dale  was  in  love  with  his  little  vessel,  and  knew 
every  spar,  gun,  plate,  and  bolt  as  if  he  had  assisted 
in  her  building. 

On  the  way  down  the  harbour,  they  had  passed 
the  Essex  and  Lancaster,  saluting  each  with  a  bugle- 
call.  Besides  the  two  officers  mentioned,  it  should 


1 8  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC, 

be  added  that  there  were  on  board  Ensigns  Dobson 
and  Liddon,  the  former  a  good-natured  little  fellow, 
barely  tall  enough  to  meet  naval  requirement  as 
to  height ;  the  other  a  finely  educated  and  elegant 
young  gentleman  who  had  attended  a  medical  col- 
lege before  enlisting,  and  whose  fund  of  scientific 
and  historical  knowledge  was  supposed  to  be  inex- 
haustible. He  wore  glasses,  and  had  at  once  been 
dubbed  "Doctor,"  on  entering  the  Naval  Academy. 
These,  with  Paymaster  Ross,  Assistant  Surgeon 
Cutler,  and  Engineer  Claflin,  made  up  the  officers' 
mess  of  the  Osprey. 

It  was  a  fair  day  in  June,  1903.  The  sunlight 
sparkled  on  the  summer  sea.  Officers  and  men  were 
in  the  best  of  spirits  as  the  gunboat,  her  red,  white, 
and  blue  "commission  pennant"  streaming  from 
her  masthead,  sped  southward  past  the  long,  ragged 
"toe"  of  the  Massachusetts  boot. 

At  noon  Rexdale  dined  in  solemn  and  solitary 
state  in  his  after  cabin.  The  rest  of  the  officers 
messed  together  in  the  ward-room,  below  decks, 
and  doubtless  Dave  would  have  been  glad  to  join 
them ;  but  discipline  required  that  the  commanding 
officer,  however  familiarly  he  might  address  an  old 
acquaintance  in  private,  should  hold  aloof  at  meal- 
times. He  was  waited  upon  by  two  small  Japanese 
men,  or  boys,  who  had  easily  obtained  the  situation 
when  the  vessel  went  into  commission  at  the  Charles- 


" MAN  OVERBOARD!"  19 

town  Navy  Yard,  where  she  had  remained  for  some 
months,  docked  for  overhauling  and  thorough  re- 
pairs. The  two  cabin  stewards  were  gentle  and 
pleasant  in  their  manners,  conversant  with  all  their 
duties,  and  spoke  English  fluently.  Their  names 
were  on  the  ship's  papers  as  Oto  and  Oshima. 

"Oto,"  said  Rexdale,  when  the  dinner  was  fin- 
ished, "call  the  orderly." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  marine  was  pacing  the  deck  outside  the  cabin- 
door.  On  receiving  the  summons  he  entered  and 
saluted  stiffly. 

"Orderly,  ask  Mr.  Staples  to  step  this  way,  if  he 
has  finished  his  dinner." 

Another  salute,  and  the  man  turned  on  his  heels 
and  marched  out. 

"Mr.  Staples,"  said  the  commander,  as  the  former 
came  in,  "at  four  bells  we  will  have  'man  overboard' 
drill.  We  shall  anchor  to-night  about  ten  miles  off 
Nantucket.  I  shall  come  on  the  bridge  and  con  the 
ship  myself  when  we  sight  the  Shovelful  Lightship, 
and  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  with  me,  passing  the 
Shoal.  The  next  time  we  go  over  this  course  I  shall 
let  you  take  the  ship  through  the  passage  yourself." 

"Very  well,  sir."  And  the  executive,  being  in 
sight  of  the  waiters  and  the  orderly,  as  well  as  the 
surgeon,  who  just  then  passed  through  the  cabin, 
saluted  formally  and  retired. 


20  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

On  deck,  forward  and  in  the  waist  of  the  ship,  the 
men  were  busy  at  various  tasks,  burnishing  brass- 
work,  making  fast  the  lashings  of  the  guns,  overhaul- 
ing rigging  and  such  naval  apparatus  as  the  warrant 
officers  knew  would  be  needed  on  this  short  cruise. 
But  few  of  the  crew — over  a  hundred  in  all — were  be- 
low, although  only  the  watch  were  actually  on  duty. 

In  passing  one  of  the  seamen,  who  was  polishing 
the  rail,  Oshima,  on  his  way  to  the  galley,  accident- 
ally hit  the  man  with  his  elbow. 

"Clear  out,  will  you?"  said  the  seaman  with  an 
oath.  At  the  same  time  he  gave  the  little  Jap  a 
shove  that  sent  him  reeling. 

"Oh,  take  a  fellow  of  your  size,  Sam !  "  cried  one 
of  the  watch  standing  near. 

"He  ran  into  me!  I  '11  take  him  and  you,  too,  if 
you  say  much,"  retorted  the  first  speaker  morosely. 

Two  or  three  of  the  men  paused  on  hearing  the 
angry  words.  The  little  stewards  were  favourites  on 
board,  although  the  enlisted  men  looked  down  on 
their  calling. 

Oshima's  dark  eyes  had  flashed  at  the  rough 
push  and  the  sneering  reply  of  the  sailor.  He 
brushed  his  neat  jacket  where  the  former's  hand 
had  touched  it.  Then  he  said  quietly,  "You  can 
strike,  Sam  Bolles,  as  an  ass  can  kick.  But  you 
could  not  throw  me  to  the  deck." 

"Could  n't  I? "  snarled  Sam,  dropping  his  hand- 


"MAN  OVERBOARD!"  21 

ful  of  oily  waste  and  springing  to  his  feet.  "We  '11 

see  about  that,  you !  "  and  he  called  him  an 

ugly  name. 

Glancing  about  to  see  that  no  officer  was  watch- 
ing, Oshima  crouched  low,  and  awaited  the  burly 
seaman's  onset.  Sam  rushed  at  him  with  out- 
stretched hands  and  tried  to  seize  him  around  the 
waist,  to  dash  his  slight  antagonist  to  the  deck. 
Had  he  succeeded,  Oshima's  usefulness  to  the 
United  States  Navy  would  have  ended  then  and 
there.  A  dozen  men  gathered  about  the  pair,  and 
more  than  one  uttered  a  warning  cry  to  the  Japanese. 
They  need  not  have  been  alarmed,  however,  for  the 
safety  of  their  small  comrade. 

Just  as  Sam's  burly  paws  closed  on  his  shoulders, 
Oshima's  dark,  thin  little  hands  shot  out.  He 
caught  the  seaman's  right  arm,  gave  a  lightning-like 
twist,  and  with  a  cry  of  pain  and  rage  the  big  fellow 
went  down  in  a  heap  on  the  deck.  As  the  men  ap- 
plauded wildly  and  swung  their  caps,  the  Jap  looked 
a  moment  at  his  fallen  foe  with  a  smile  of  contempt, 
then  turned  away,  for  the  master-at-arms,  hearing 
the  noise  of  the  scuffle,  was  approaching.  Sam, 
however,  was  wild  with  rage.  Scrambling  to  his 
feet,  he  darted  upon  his  late  antagonist,  caught  up 
the  small  figure  in  his  powerful  arms,  and  before 
anybody  could  interfere,  tossed  him  over  the  rail 
into  the  sea. 


22  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Lieut.  Commander  Rexdale,  pacing  the  quarter- 
deck and  congratulating  himself  on  the  fine  run  the 
Osprey  was  making,  was  suddenly  aroused  from  his 
professional  meditations  by  the  sound  of  cries  from 
the  forward  part  of  the  ship.  Annoyed  by  this 
breach  of  discipline,  he  called  sharply  to  one  of  the 
ensigns,  who  was  standing  near,  watching  a  distant 
steamer  through  his  glass,  "Mr.  Dobson,  step  for- 
ward, please,  and  find  out  what  that  disturbance  is 
among  the  men " 

But  before  Dobson  could  reach  the  head  of  the 
ladder  another  confusion  of  shouts  arose,  followed 
immediately  by  a  rush  of  footsteps.  At  the  same 
time  the  commander  felt  the  tremor  of  the  screw's 
motion  die  away,  under  his  feet. 

"Man  overboard?"  exclaimed  Rexdale,  with  a 
vexed  frown.  "I  gave  orders  for  the  drill  at  four 
bells,  and  three  bells  were  struck  only  a  few  minutes 
ago.  Where  is  Mr.  Staples?" 

The  executive  officer  was  at  that  moment  seen 
hurrying  aft,  but  the  Jackies  were  before  him. 
They  tumbled  up  the  steps  like  mad,  and  flung 
themselves  into  the  starboard  quarter-boat,  which 
had  been  left  swinging  outside  from  the  davits  for 
the  purposes  of  drill.  Already  the  man  on  watch 
at  the  taffrail  had  cut  away  the  lashings  of  a  patent 
life-preserver  and  sent  it  into  the  sea,  where  it 
floated  with  signals  erect,  far  astern.  The  propeller 


"MAN  OVERBOARD!"  2$ 

was  lashing  the  water  into  foam  with  its  reversed 
motion.  The  Osprey  shook  as  she  tried  to  overcome 
her  momentum;  then,  as  the  screw  was  stopped, 
forged  slowly  ahead. 

' '  Lively,  now,  men !  Let  go !  Fend  off !  "  shouted 
Dobson,  whose  station  was  in  that  boat  at  the  "man 
overboard"  signal.  "Oars!  Let  fall!  Give  way!" 
And  off  went  the  boat,  plunging  and  foaming  over 
the  waves  in  the  direction  of  the  life-preserver, 
which  was  now  a  quarter  of  a  mile  astern. 

"Very  well  done,  Mr.  Staples,"  said  Rexdale 
approvingly.  "But  why,"  he  added  in  a  lower 
tone,  "did  you  have  the  drill  at  this  hour,  instead 
of  at  four  bells,  as  I  ordered? " 

1 '  Drill  ?     This  is  no  drill,  sir !  " 

"No  drill?" 

"There  is  a  man  overboard,  sir.  One  of  the 
Japanese  waiters  fell  over  the  rail  somehow.  I 
gave  no  orders  for  the  drill,  but  that  bugler  is  a 
quick  fellow  and  knows  his  business.  The  men  like 
the  little  Jap,  and  it  put  a  heart  into  their  work." 

When  Oshima  struck  the  water  his  early  training 
(which  will  be  referred  to  before  long)  stood  him  in 
good  stead.  He  rose  to  the  surface  and  gave  a  few 
quick  strokes  to  ensure  safety  from  the  propeller; 
then  he  turned  on  his  back  and  tried  to  float. 
There  was  too  much  ripple  on  the  water  for  this, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  turn  back  upon  his  chest  and 


24  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

maintain  his  position  with  as  little  exertion  as  pos- 
sible, not  struggling  to  reach  the  ship,  which  was 
drawing  rapidly  away.  He  had  seen  the  "man 
overboard"  drill  many  times,  and  was  on  the  look- 
out for  the  life-preserver,  which  was  thrown  just  as 
he  turned  for  the  second  time.  His  clothes  dragged 
downward  heavily,  but  in  three  minutes  he  reached 
the  buoy  and  clung  to  it,  knowing  that  by  this  time 
the  men  were  in  the  boat  and  casting  off. 

It  was  perhaps  ten  minutes  from  the  moment  of 
his  falling  into  the  sea  when  the  white  boat  drew  up 
alongside  and  pulled  both  him  and  the  life-preserver 
out  of  the  water.  Five  minutes  later — the  ship 
having  reversed  her  screw  again,  and  backed  toward 
the  boat — he  was  scrambling  over  on  to  the  deck 
and  making  for  the  little  cabin  he  shared  with  Oto. 

On  the  ship's  log  it  was  simply  recorded  that  the 
boy  had  "fallen  overboard."  Oshima  was  sharply 
questioned  by  the  officers,  but  he  could  not  be  in- 
duced to  tell  how  the  accident  happened.  Sam 
knew  there  were  no  talebearers  among  his  mates 
and  felt  safe.  He  made  a  surly  apology  to  the  little 
chap,  saying  he  was  mad  at  having  been  thrown, 
and  that  he  had  not  meant  to  drown  him.  Oshima 
thereupon  bowed  in  a  dignified  way  and  went  about 
his  work,  serving  the  commander  in  his  cabin  that 
night  as  usual. 

Passing  the  Handkerchief  Lightship,  the  Osprey 


"MAN  OVERBOARD!"  2$ 

dropped  anchor  with  the  lights  of  Nantucket  twink- 
ling far  on  her  beam  to  the  south  and  west.  The 
next  morning  preparations  were  made  for  target- 
practice. 

The  target,  tow-ed  out  and  anchored  by  a  whale- 
boat,  consisted  of  a  triangular  raft  of  boards  sup- 
ported at  each  corner  by  an  empty  barrel.  On  this 
was  stepped  a  mast  twelve  feet  high,  with  a  small 
red  flag  at  the  top.  Three  leg-of-mutton  sails,  or 
"wings,"  gave  the  craft  the  appearance,  at  a  dis- 
tance, of  a  small  catboat  under  sail.  The  Osprey 
now  took  her  position — the  distance  and  course 
being  plotted  by  officers  in  two  boats — and  steamed 
at  half-speed  past  the  target  at  a  distance  of  about 
sixteen  hundred  yards. 

The  gun-crews  were  summoned  to  quarters,  and 
the  firing  begun  with  a  six-pounder  on  the  fore- 
castle, followed  by  two  three-pounders  on  the  same 
deck. 

The  big  four-inch  gun  was  then  loaded,  the 
officers  putting  cotton  in  their  ears  to  avoid  injury. 
The  first  shot,  weighing  between  thirty  and  forty 
pounds,  was  dropped  a  little  to  the  right  of  the 
target;  the  second  fell  just  beyond  it  and  to  the 
left. 

"Fire  on  the  top  of  the  roll,"  cautioned  the  cap- 
tain of  the  gun-crew,  which  comprised  four  of  the 
best  gunners  on  the  ship. 


2,6  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  third  shot  fell  short,  and  was  duly  so  re- 
corded, in  a  memorandum  to  be  included  in  a  report 
to  the  Department. 

As  the  disappointed  gunner  stepped  back  he  saw 
Oto,  who,  being  a  sort  of  privileged  character,  was 
lingering  close  by,  shake  his  head  slightly. 

"Perhaps  you  think  you  could  do  better,  Jap!  " 
said  the  man  sharply. 

Oto  nodded,  but  remained  modestly  silent. 

"What,  did  you  ever  fire  a  heavy  piece  of  ord- 
nance?" asked  Liddon,  standing  near  to  watch  the 
practice. 

Oto  nodded  again.  "I  could  hit  that  target,"  he 
added  simply,  touching  his  cap  and  turning  away. 

"Stop,"  said  the  officer.  He  stepped  toward  the 
bridge,  and,  saluting,  said:  "The  Japanese  yonder 
says  he  is  used  to  firing  and  could  hit  the  target, 
sir.  Shall  I  let  him  try?" 

Rexdale,  who  was  closely  noting  the  practice, 
hesitated,  it  being  the  strict  rule  that  no  one  out- 
side the  gun-crew  should  fire.  He  spoke  in  a  low 
tone  to  Staples,  who  laughed  and  said:  "All  right, 
sir.  It  's  only  one  shot  wasted,  in  any  case." 

"Let  the  boy  sight  the  piece,  and  fire,"  ordered 
the  commander. 

Oto  touched  his  cap  and  adjusted  the  sighting  ap- 
paratus to  his  shoulder.  His  small  hands  fluttered 
a  moment  around  the  delicate  machinery ;  then  he 


"MAN  OVERBOARD!"  2*J 

swung  the  great  muzzle  slightly  upward  and  to  the 
right.  The  ship  rose  on  a  long  swell,  and  just  as  it 
hung  on  the  crest  came  the  roar  of  the  great  gun. 

An  instant's  pause  was  followed  by  a  cheer  from 
the  men;  for  as  the  smoke  drifted  away,  behold, 
there  was  no  target  to  be  seen ! 

"He  must  have  struck  the  base  of  the  mast,  true 
as  a  hair!  "  exclaimed  Rexdale,  scanning  the  wreck 
of  the  target  through  his  glass.  ' '  Well  done,  Oto !  " 

The  men  crowded  around  the  little  fellow,  clap- 
ping him  on  the  back. 

"Just  his  luck!  "  growled  Sam,  who  was  one  of 
the  gun- crew. 

"Oh,  let  up,  Sam!  The  boy  has  made  a  first- 
class  shot,"  said  a  grizzled  old  gunner.  "Wait  till 
you  have  such  luck  yourself!  " 

"You  will  send  a  boat  out  to  pick  up  what  is  left 
of  the  target,"  ordered  Rexdale,  returning  his 
glasses  to  their  case.  "We  've  no  more  time  for 
practice  to-day.  Get  all  your  boats  in  and  proceed, 
if  you  please,  Mr.  Staples." 

That  night  he  sent  for  the  executive  and  had  a 
long  talk  with  him.  There  was  something  queer 
about  those  two  Japanese  boys,  Rexdale  said.  Did 
Staples  or  any  of  the  officers  know  anything  about 
them?  Inquiries  were  made,  and  the  waiters  them- 
selves were  closely  questioned,  but  no  information 
of  importance  could  be  gained.  It  was  learned, 


28  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

indeed,  that  one  of  the  ordinary  seamen,  Dick 
Scupp  by  name,  was  more  "chummy"  with  Oto 
and  Oshima  than  any  one  else  on  board.  He  was 
a  simple,  long-legged,  awkward  young  fellow  from 
northern  Maine,  who  had  enlisted  at  the  outbreak 
of  the  Spanish  War,  and  had  served  before  Santi- 
ago, in  the  blockading  squadron.  He  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  Oshima,  particularly,  and  it  was  he  who 
had  rebuked  Sam's  rough  treatment  of  his  Japanese 
friend,  just  before  the  wrestling-match.  He  knew 
nothing,  however,  of  the  previous  lives  of  the  two 
little  foreigners. 

Rexdale  would  hardly  have  been  surprised  at 
Oto's  skill  in  gunnery  had  he  known  that  this  meek 
and  gentle  Japanese  lad  had  passed  through  the 
whole  course  at  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
graduating — under  his  full  name,  Makoto  Owari — 
in  the  first  third  of  his  class,  just  seven  years  before 
Dave  received  his  own  commission ! 


CHAPTER   III. 

SEALED  ORDERS. 

THE  rest  of  the  cruise  of  the  Osprey  was  without 
special  incident.  Various  drills  were  per- 
formed until  every  movement  was  executed  to  the 
officers'  satisfaction.  One  of  the  most  interesting 
was  the  "fire  drill."  A  succession  of  loud,  hur- 
ried strokes  on  the  ship's  bell  brought  the  men 
hurrying  up  from  below.  Some  ran  to  the  hose, 
uncoiled  it  and  coupled  it  to  the  pipes,  others  closed 
ports  and  ventilators,  boat  crews  repaired  to  their 
stations,  and  in  an  almost  incredibly  short  time 
water  was  gushing  from  the  nozzle  of  the  hose  into 
the  sea.  Then  there  was  ' '  Boats  and  away ! ' '  the 
life-raft  drill,  signalling,  and  other  manoeuvres. 
Attention  was  paid  to  the  slightest  details,  which 
were  executed  with  the  wonderful  precision  that 
characterises  every  naval  movement.  If  the  emer- 
gency should  really  arise,  in  the  midst  of  a  storm  or 
under  the  enemy's  fire,  every  man  would  know  his 
station  and  the  exact  duties  he  was  to  perform. 
"Collision  drill  "  and  "setting  up"  finished  the  work 
in  that  line  for  the  day. 

29 


3O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

During  the  afternoon  land  was  near  on  both  sides 
of  the  vessel,  as  she  pursued  her  course  to  the 
north-west  between  Martha's  Vineyard  and  the 
mainland.  Nobska  Head  and,  three  hours  later, 
Gay  Head,  were  sighted  and  passed.  Then  the 
Osprey  stood  directly  for  Cape  Charles.  Just  at 
sunset  a  heavy  fog  shut  down. 

"  Three-quarters  speed !  "  ordered  Ensign  Liddon, 
who  was  on  the  bridge. 

"Three-quarters  speed,  sir,"  responded  the  quar- 
termaster, throwing  the  indicators,  which  connected 
with  the  engine-room,  around  to  that  point.  At 
about  twelve  knots  an  hour,  or  fifty-five  revolutions 
of  the  screw  to  a  minute,  the  ship  crept  steadily 
southward,  with  her  whistle  going  twice  a  minute. 
At  ten  o'clock  full  speed  was  resumed,  for  the  stars 
were  out  again. 

The  next  day  was  fair,  and  the  sun  shone  brightly 
on  the  broad  ocean,  on  the  white  ship,  and  on  the 
great  steel  gun  which  bore  the  inscription  "Beth- 
lehem"— the  place  where  it  was  cast.  "After  all, 
it  's  a  good  peacemaker,"  said  Lieutenant  Staples, 
as  he  made  his  inspection  tour,  accompanied  by 
Dr.  Cutler.  "There  's  thirty-six  hundred  pounds 
of  peace,"  he  added,  patting  the  breech  of  the  gun. 
On  the  deck,  near  by,  a  kitten  was  tumbling  about 
in  the  sunshine.  The  men  were  engaged  in  mend- 
ing, writing  letters,  and  smoking  idly. 


SEALED   ORDERS.  31 

At  about  noon  the  lightship  off  Cape  May  was 
left  behind,  and  the  Osprey  started  up  Chesapeake 
Bay.  When  she  had  proceeded  to  a  point  sixteen 
miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac,  she  brought 
up  for  the  night,  a  light  fog  rendering  navigation 
difficult  in  those  crowded  waters.  Early  the  next 
morning  the  gunboat  weighed  anchor  and  got 
under  way.  Just  as  she  was  turning  into  the  Poto- 
mac she  sighted  the  battleship  Indiana  outward 
bound  with  midshipmen  on  board  in  large  numbers. 

Staples  immediately  gave  an  order,  and  a  string 
of  gay  flags  fluttered  at  the  yard-arm  above  the 
Osprey  s  decks.  The  signal  was  answered  by  the 
battleship,  and  the  executive  reported  to  Rexdale, 
"Permission  to  proceed,  sir."  When  two  ships  of 
the  navy  meet,  this  permission  must  always  be  ob- 
tained from  the  one  commanding  officer  who  ranks 
the  other. 

Up  the  broad,  placid  river  the  Osprey  moved, 
seeming  to  gain  in  size  as  the  stream  diminished ; 
past  wooded  banks  where  cabins  nestled  in  the 
greenery,  or  statelier  homes  lifted  their  white  pillars ; 
past  the  little  cove  where  Booth,  the  assassin  of  Pres- 
ident Lincoln,  landed  after  crossing  the  Potomac  in 
his  mad  flight ;  on  toward  Washington.  At  the  Prov- 
ing Ground  a  boat  was  sent  ashore  with  a  telephone 
message  to  Alexandria,  ordering  a  tug-boat  to  meet 
the  war-ship  for  two  or  three  miles'  tow  to  her  dock. 


32  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

When  the  Osprey  was  opposite  Mount  Vernon,  a 
mournful  strain  from  the  bugle  floated  over  the 
water  from  the  ship's  forward  deck.  The  ensign 
was  half-masted,  every  man  on  board  faced  the 
shore  and  stood  at  salute,  while  the  bell  tolled 
slowly  until  the  sacred  spot,  the  home  of  the  great 
American,  was  passed. 

Not  long  afterward  the  tug  appeared,  made  fast  to 
the  gunboat,  and  towed  her  to  the  navy-yard  wharf, 
where  she  was  to  await  orders  for  further  movements. 

During  the  week  that  followed,  two  events  took 
place  which  were  destined  to  exert  an  important  in- 
fluence upon  the  subsequent  history  of  the  Osprey. 

The  first  was  the  appearance  of  a  new  member  of 
the  mess,  Midshipman  Robert  Starr.  He  was  a 
cheery,  good-natured  young  fellow,  finishing  his 
Academy  course;  full  of  fun,  and  a  great  joker. 
While  the  original  ward-room  mess  were  at  first  dis- 
posed to  regret,  if  not  to  resent,  this  addition  to 
their  family,  they  soon  liked  him  thoroughly,  and, 
indeed,  he  became  popular  from  one  end  of  the  ship 
to  the  other. 

The  other  event  of  importance  was  a  dinner  given 
by  Lieut.  Commander  Rexdale  on  board  his  ship. 
Among  those  who  received  invitations  were  the 
Commandant  of  the  Yard,  with  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter; one  or  two  officers  from  a  torpedo-destroyer 
then  docked  and  out  of  commission ;  Fred  Larkin, 


SEALED   ORDERS.  33 

who  happened  to  be  in  Washington ;  and  two 
young  girls,  nieces  of  a  Government  official  of  high 
standing,  Ethelwyn  and  Edith  Black,  aged  respec- 
tively sixteen  and  nineteen.  These  fair  young 
Anglo-Saxons  were  the  guests  of  the  commandant, 
and  on  finding  that  they  were  included  in  the  in- 
vitation expressed  their  delight  by  seizing  upon  his 
daughter  Mary  and  executing  a  sort  of  triple  waltz 
around  the  room  for  fully  five  minutes. 

"You  see,  dear,"  panted  the  younger  Miss  Black, 
adjusting  an  amber  pin  which  had  fallen  from  her 
sunny  hair  to  the  floor,  "we  've  never  been  on  a 
war-ship  and  have  n't  the  least  idea  what  it  's  like. 
Is  n't  that  Captain  Rexdale  a  dear!  " 

"There,  there,  Wynnie,  do  sit  down  and  keep 
still  for  two  minutes,"  laughed  her  quieter  hostess. 
"You  've  just  about  shaken  me  to  bits.  Yes, 
Lieut.  Commander  Rexdale  is  nice,  and  so  are  the 
rest  of  the  officers  of  the  Osprey.  You  '11  like  Mr. 
Liddon,  I  know." 

"And  will  your  mother  go?  ?' 

"Of  course  she  will.  How  could  we  accept,  if 
she  were  not  to  take  care  of  us?  " 

"I  don't  need  anybody  to  take  care  of  me,"  re- 
marked Wynnie  demurely.    "  You  '11  see  how  nicely 
I  '11  behave — like  the  kittens  in  the  poem — 
'Spoons  in  right  paw,  cups  in  left, 
It  was  a  pretty  sight ! ' 


34  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"You  witch!'*  said  Mary,  giving  her  a  squeeze. 
"I  've  seen  you  'behave  nicely'  before  now! 
Mother  will  have  her  hands  full,  for  once." 

"Who  are  the  other  officers?"  asked  Edith,  from 
the  sofa. 

"Oh,  there's  Ensign  Dobson  —  he  isn't  very 
lively,  but  he  's  nice;  Dr.  Cutler,  who  will  talk 
with  papa  all  the  time  about  quarantine  regulations 
and  the  Red  Cross ;  and  Mr.  Ross,  the  paymaster, 
I  suppose.  Oh,  and  I  believe  there  's  a  little  mid- 
shipman from  the  Naval  Academy — I  don't  know 
his  name,  for  he  has  just  been  assigned  to  the  ship." 

Wynnie's  eyes  danced.  "He  '11  be  dreadfully 
bashful,  I  know.  I  shall  consider  it  my  duty  to 
entertain  him,  poor  little  thing!  " 

The  dinner  proved  a  great  success.  Larkin,  of 
course,  kept  his  end  of  the  table  in  a  shout,  while 
young  Starr  was  by  no  means  too  bashful  to  appre- 
ciate Ethelwyn's  fun.  "Doc."  Liddon  talked  poli- 
tics with  the  civilian  reporter,  navy-yard  gossip  with 
Mrs.  Commandant,  international  complications  with 
her  husband,  and  nonsense,  flavoured  with  dry  wit, 
with  Edith.  Dobson  told  the  story  of  his  rescue 
from  the  hazing  party  at  the  Academy,  and  brought 
down  the  house  as  he  described  his  position  when 
Norman  Holmes  and  Dave  Rexdale  came  on  the 
scene — standing  on  his  head,  with  his  tormentors 
pouring  cold  water  down  his  trousers-leg. 


SEALED   ORDERS.  35 

Then  Dave  himself  was  called  on  for  the  tale  of 
his  boat-wreck  on  the  lonely  Desertas,  near  Madeira, 
when  he  and  "Sandy"  barely  escaped  with  their 
lives. 

The  cabin  of  the  Osprey  was  prettily  decorated 
with  ferns  and  flowers,  and  there  was  little  to  sug- 
gest warfare,  the  roar  of  cannon,  the  cries  of  the 
fierce  combatants,  in  its  dainty  appointments.  It 
fell  about,  however,  that,  as  was  natural,  the  con- 
versation at  length  turned  to  the  navies  of  the  great 
nations,  and,  in  comparison,  that  of  the  United 
States. 

"Where  do  we  stand,  among  the  other  Powers — 
in  point  of  naval  strength,  I  mean? "  asked  some  one. 

The  commandant  had  excused  himself  on  the 
plea  of  important  duty,  and  had  returned  to  his 
office  on  the  Yard.  Oddly  enough,  it  was  the  civil- 
ian that  answered  the  question,  before  any  one  else 
could  recall  the  figures 

"We  are  fifth  in  rank,"  said  Larkin,  helping  him- 
self to  a  banana.  "If  we  carry  out  our  present 
rather  indefinite  plans  we  shall  be,  by  1908,  the 
third  in  strength,  possibly  the  second,  with  only 
England  ahead  of  us." 

"Do  you  happen  to  remember  the  approximate 
number  of  large  ships  in  the  English  navy?  "  asked 
Dobson. 

"I  'm  sorry  to  say  I  do  not,"  replied  the  reporter. 


36  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"I  do,"  put  in  Ensign  Liddon,  who  had  had  time 
to  collect  his  thoughts  and  statistics.  "England 
has  two  hundred  and  one,  not  counting  gunboats, 
torpedo-boats,  and  other  small  craft " 

"Small!  Do  you  call  this  ship  small?"  cried 
Ethelwyn  indignantly. 

"She  'd  look  like  a  kitten  beside  her  mother  if  a 
first-class  battleship  ranged  alongside,"  laughed 
Liddon.  "Well,  I  was  about  to  add  that  France 
has  ninety-six  big  ships,  Russia  fifty-nine,  and  Ger- 
many seventy-three.  The  United  States  has  only 
sixty-five." 

"How  many  has  Japan?"  inquired  Rexdale 
significantly.  Just  behind  his  shoulder  a  pair  of 
dark,  obliquely-set  eyes  flashed  at  the  question. 

"Forty-four,  I  believe.  She  would  have  a  poor 
show  at  sea  against  Russia's  fifty-nine." 

"Oshima,  there,  does  n't  seem  to  agree  with 
you,"  said  Dr.  Cutler  lightly,  nodding  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  steward. 

All  eyes  were  turned  to  the  little  Japanese,  who 
drew  back  modestly. 

"Well,  boy,  speak  your  mind  for  once,"  said 
Rexdale.  "What  do  you  think  about  the  chances 
of  Nippon  against  the  Russian  Bear?" 

"I  was  t' inking,"  said  Oshima,  whose  English 
was  not  quite  as  perfect  as  his  comrade's,  "of  man 
behind  gun," 


SEALED   ORDERS.  37 

The  phrase  was  already  a  favourite  in  the  navy, 
and  a  round  of  hearty  applause  followed  the  diminu- 
tive waiter  as  he  retired  in  some  confusion. 

"Let  's  go  on  deck,"  suggested  Starr.  "It  's 
getting  pretty  hot  down  here." 

The  commander  'set  the  example  by  rising,  and 
the  whole  party  adjourned  to  the  quarter-deck, 
where  chairs  had  been  placed  for  them.  The 
gentlemen  lit  their  cigars,  "not  (Starr  gravely  re- 
marked) because  they  wanted  to,  but  purely  to  keep 
the  mosquitoes  away  from  the  ladies." 

Overhead  the  June  stars  were  shining,  lights 
flashed  across  the  river,  and  distant  shouts  came 
softly  over  the  water.  The  young  people  sprang  to 
their  feet  and  declared  they  must  walk  a  bit.  What 
they  talked  about  as  they  paced  to  and  fro — Bob 
Starr  with  Wynnie,  Liddon  with  Edith,  and  Dob- 
son  with  Mary — is  of  no  consequence.  It  is  probable 
that  the  two  sisters  explained  to  their  respective 
escorts  that  in  the  early  fall  they  expected  to  travel 
to  India,  China,  and  Japan,  going  via  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  returning  through  Europe.  Whereupon 
it  is  more  than  likely  that  the  young  gentlemen  in 
white  duck  expressed  themselves  as  plunged  in 
despair  at  the  prospect  of  having  to  remain  on  the 
North  Atlantic  Station,  with  even  a  vague  and  dis- 
gusting possibility  of  "shore  duty"  for  one  or  both! 

Meanwhile    the    older    members    of    the    party 


38  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

renewed  the  conversation  which  had  been  broken 
off  when  the  girls  rose  from  table. 

"If  we  are  to  keep  up  with  foreign  Powers,"  said 
Dr.  Cutler,  striking  his  hand  upon  his  knee,  "much 
more  if  we  are  to  pass  any  of  them  in  naval  rank, 
we  must  hurry  up  our  ship-builders.  Germany  ex- 
pects her  battleship  in  commission  in  three  years 
and  a  half  from  the  day  when  the  keel  is  down. 
We  have  one  under  construction  now  that  was 
begun  over  five  years  ago." 

"What  does  a  modern  battleship  cost?  "  asked  the 
older  lady,  who  was  one  of  the  quarter-deck  group. 

"About  eight  million  dollars,"  replied  Rexdale. 
"And  a  right  lively  war  costs  the  country  a  million 
dollars  a  day,  in  round  numbers." 

"And  all  of  it  absolutely  consumed,  burnt  up, 
eaten,  thrown  away,"  added  the  doctor.  "It  is 
not  like  expenses  for  construction;  it  is  all  for 
destruction." 

"My  idea  of  a  good-sized  navy's  mission  is  to 
keep  the  peace,  so  that  there  '11  be  no  war,"  put  in 
Staples,  who  had  been  rather  silent  thus  far. 

"Staples  was  the  only  man  in  our  Plebe  class  who 
actually  fought  a  battle  with  a  second-year  man," 
laughed  Dave.  "I  like  to  hear  him  preach  peace!  " 

"Perhaps  you  remember,"  said  the  other  grimly, 
"that  no  more  fights  were  necessary.  One  good 
upper-cut  on  that  fellow's  jaw  won  peace  for  the 


SEALED   ORDERS.  39 

whole  crowd.  If  Dewey  had  n't  sunk  the  Spanish 
fleet  at  Manila  we  might  have  been  fighting  the 
Dons  to  this  day." 

"Will  the  Japs  fight  Russia,  do  you  think?" 
asked  Larkin.  "I/  they  do,  that  may  mean  a  job 
for  'yours  truly.'  ' 

"Certainly  it  looks  like  trouble  over  there,"  said 
Rexdale  soberly.  "The  Russians  are  steadily  ad- 
vancing to  the  Pacific — already  they  have  one  hand 
on  Vladivostock  and  the  other  on  Port  Arthur. 
Japan,  crowded  in  its  little  group  of  islands  just  out 
of  sight  of  Korea,  feels  the  danger  and  the  menace. 
Both  nations  have  been  preparing  for  a  big  war  for 
years,  I  am  told." 

"But  Russia  enormously  outnumbers  the  Japan- 
ese," said  Dr.  Cutler.  "She  has  an  army,  they 
say,  of  four  and  a  half  million  men,  against  Japan's 
six  hundred  thousand 

"Aye,  but  where  are  those  four  millions?"  put  in 
Rexdale  warmly.  "Separated  from  the  fighting 
line,  which  we  can  call  Korea  and  the  coast  of 
Manchuria,  by  six  thousand  miles,  with  only  a 
single-track  railroad  between  Moscow  and  Port 
Arthur.  The  Japs  could  handle  them  one  at  a  time 
like  the  Spartans  at — at — where  was  it  ?  " 

"Thermopylae,  sir,"  remarked  Doc.  Liddon,  who 
had  paused  a  moment  in  his  walk,  attracted  by  the 
commander's  earnestness. 


40  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Thanks — Greek  history  never  was  my  strong 
point  at  school!  "  said  Dave  with  a  good-humoured 
laugh.  Then,  resuming:  "As  to  the  Russian  navy, 
matters  would  be  just  as  bad.  Half  her  ships  at 
least  must  be  in  the  Baltic  to  protect  her  home 
ports " 

Before  he  could  proceed  further,  an  interruption 
occurred.  An  orderly  mounted  the  steps  to  the 
quarter-deck  and  with  the  usual  stiff  salute  handed 
Rexdale  a  letter,  marked  "Important  and  Imme- 
diate." 

The  commander  broke  open  the  envelope.  He 
had  no  sooner  read  the  few  lines  it  contained  than 
he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Madam,"  he  said  abruptly  but  courteously, 
"and  gentlemen,  I  am  sorry  to  bring  our  pleasant 
party  to  an  end,  but  my  orders  leave  me  no  choice. 
Mr.  Staples,  I  must  see  you  and  the  rest  of  the 
officers  at  once  in  my  cabin.  Orderly,  attend  the 
ladies  through  the  Yard.  Good-night,  all!  " 

Hurriedly  the  girls  ran  below  for  their  wraps, 
wondering  what  the  mysterious  orders  could  be  that 
compelled  them  to  retire  so  early  and  brought  that 
new  ring  to  the  commander's  tones.  They  bade 
good-night  to  the  young  officers,  who  would  fain 
have  escorted  them  to  their  home,  but  Rexdale  was 
obliged  to  refuse  his  permission. 

"Good-night!    good-night!     We   shall   see   you 


SEALED   ORDERS.  41 

again  soon!"  called  the  girlish  voices  from  the 
wharf,  while  their  late  companions  swung  their  hats 
gallantly  on  the  deck  of  the  Osprey. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Rexdale  in  grave,  earnest 
tones,  when  they  .were  all  gathered  once  more  in 
the  cabin,  "I  have  important  news  for  you.  We 
are  ordered  to  coal  and  take  on  stores  and  ammuni- 
tion for  sea  without  delay,  sailing  one  week  from 
to-day,  if  possible.  You  will  see  that  this  is  done 
promptly,  and  that  every  man  reports  for  duty  to- 
morrow, all  shore  leave  being  withdrawn. 

Not  a  man  there  but  longed  to  ask,  "What  is 
our  port  of  destination?"  but  discipline  prevailed. 
Their  lips  remained  closed.  They  were  no  longer  a 
party  of  young  fellows  chatting  and  laughing  gaily 
as  they  performed  their  pleasant  social  duties  and 
joked  with  their  merry  guests;  they  were  officers 
in  the  United  States  Navy,  ready  for  the  duty  at 
hand ;  willing  to  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  to 
encounter  danger  in  its  most  appalling  forms,  to 
give  their  lives,  if  need  be,  for  their  country.  Si- 
lence settled  for  a  moment  over  the  group. 

"If  I  could  I  would  tell  you,  without  reserve, 
where  we  are  bound;  but  I  do  not  know  myself," 
added  Rexdale.  "There  are  new  complications  in 
the  far  East — that  is  all  I  know.  We  sail  under 
sealed  orders,  to  be  opened  at  sea,  twenty-four 
hours  out." 


42  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

He  rose  from  his  chair,  to  signify  that  the  inter- 
view was  ended.  As  the  officers  filed  out  to  their 
respective  quarters,  the  pantry  door,  which,  though 
no  one  noticed  it,  had  been  slightly  ajar,  closed 
noiselessly.  Behind  it  were  two  Japanese,  grasping 
each  other's  hands  and  looking  into  each  other's 
eyes.  Their  breath  came  quickly;  their  eyes 
glowed. 

"Banzai!"  they  whispered.  " Teikoku  banzai! 
Long  live  the  Empire!  " 


CHAPTER   IV. 

UNCLE  SAM'S  PACKING. 

WHEN  the  family  of  a  citizen  in  private  life 
makes  up  its  mind  to  a  long  journey  to 
foreign  shores,  great  is  the  confusion,  and  multitu- 
dinous the  errands  and  minor  purchases  for  the  trip ; 
trunks,  half-packed,  block  the  sitting-room  and 
hall-ways;  Polly  flies  up-stairs  and  down  dis- 
tractedly, Molly  spends  hours  uncounted  (but  not 
uncharged-for)  at  the  dressmaker's,  Dick  burns 
midnight  oil  over  guide-books  and  itineraries,  and 
even  paterfamilias  feels  the  restlessness  and  turmoil 
of  the  times,  and  declaims  against  extravagance  as 
the  final  packing  discloses  the  calls  that  are  to  be 
made  upon  his  bank  account. 

If  a  vacation  trip  for  a  single  family  is  productive 
of  such  a  month  of  busy  preparation,  what  must  be 
the  commotion  on  a  war-ship  starting  for  the  Far 
East,  with  a  crew  of  one  or  two  hundred  men  and 
only  a  week  allowed  for  packing ! 

The  officers  and  enlisted  men  of  the  Osprey  had 

43 


44  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

their  hands  full  in  the  days  that  followed  the  ban- 
quet. 

In  ordinary  times  it  takes  one  hundred  skilled 
men  a  full  week  to  stow  away  provisions,  supplies, 
ammunition,  coal,  and  the  thousand  and  one  minor 
articles  that  are  needed  on  board  one  of  the  larger 
war-ships.  The  ship's  crew  lend  a  hand,  but  they 
operate  only  under  the  direction  of  the  staff  of 
trained  stevedores  which  is  kept  on  duty  at  the 
Navy  Yard. 

Everything  must  be  put  away  "snug  and  ship- 
shape" ;  and  goods  are  "stowed  snug"  where  they 
occupy  the  least  possible  space,  for  every  inch 
counts  in  the  narrow  limits  of  a  ship.  Then,  too, 
they  must  be  so  stevedored  that  they  will  keep  their 
original  positions  during  the  rolling  and  pitching  of 
the  vessel  in  a  seaway. 

More  than  this  is  required.  There  must  be  per- 
fect order  with  the  greatest  degree  of  safety  attain- 
able. Inflammable  or  explosive  substances  must 
not  be  stowed  together,  and  the  arrangement  must 
be  such  that  any  article  needed  can  be  reached  on 
the  instant.  Emergenices  often  arise  in  which  the 
safety  of  the  ship  itself  is  dependent  on  having 
needed  appliances  or  material  in  the  hands  of  certain 
officers  without  a  moment's  delay.  It  may  be 
nothing  more  than  a  case  of  oil,  or  it  may  be  the 
duplicate  of  some  broken  rod,  bolt,  or  plate  of  the 


UNCLE   SAM'S  PACKING.  45 

r 

delicate  mechanism  of  the  great  propelling  engine 
or  of  the  dynamo,  which  is  the  very  life  centre  of 
the  modern  war-ship. 

Paterfamilias,  grumbling  at  the  shopping  memo- 
randum of  his  wife  and  daughters  on  the  eve  of 
their  Mediterranean  vacation  trip,  would  gasp  at 
the  list  which  Uncle  Sam  must  fill,  for  a  long  cruise 
of  one  of  his  naval  vessels.  Here  is  a  single  order 
sent  to  one  wholesale  house  on  the  Osprey's  account, 
that  week  in  June:  Loaf  sugar,  brown  sugar,  pow- 
dered sugar,  fair  molasses,  Ceylon  tea,  Hyson  tea, 
Java  coffee,  Rio  coffee,  smoked  ham,  American 
rice,  breakfast  bacon,  lambs'  tongues,  pigs'  feet, 
corned  beef,  corned  pork,  leaf  lard,  dried  peas,  dried 
beans,  coffee  extract,  chiccory,  chocolate,  Swiss 
cheese,  English  cheese,  New  York  dairy  cheese, 
canned  tomatoes,  canned  peaches,  canned  onions, 
canned  asparagus,  canned  peas,  canned  corn,  canned 
beets,  olives  and  olive  oil,  sauces  and  catsups,  oat- 
meal and  flour,  limes  and  lemons,  fruit  jellies, 
condensed  meats,  beef  extracts,  Jamaica  ginger, 
mustard  and  spices,  cigars  and  tobacco,  corn-meal 
and  hominy,  sago  and  tapioca,  crackers  and  biscuits, 
lime  juice,  fresh  and  limed  eggs,  baking  powder, 
canned  cherries,  canned  plums,  canned  pears,  canned 
rhubarb,  dried  apples,  canned  salmon,  canned 
oysters,  canned  clams,  sardines,  canned  lobster, 
canned  mackerel,  canned  codfish,  kippered  herring, 


46  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Yarmouth  bloaters,  canned  ox  tongues,  canned 
tripe,  canned  mutton,  canned  chicken,  canned  tur- 
key, canned  soups,  condensed  milk,  canned  pickles, 
vinegar,  salt,  pepper,  canned  mushrooms,  macaroni, 
vermicelli,  laundry  soap,  toilet  soap,  sapolio,  starch 
and  blue,  insect  powder,  candles,  safety  matches, 
stationery,  rope  and  twine,  smoking  pipes,  tubs  and 
washboards,  chloride  of  lime,  ammonia,  alcohol  and 
paints,  shoe  blacking,  sewing  machines. 

From  this  partial  list  an  idea  may  be  formed  of 
the  extent  and  variety  of  the  supplies  that  go  to  a 
modern  war-ship.  The  clothing,  medical  and  me- 
chanical departments  of  the  Osprey 's  outfit  are  not 
included,  and  each  in  itself  would  make  a  long  roll. 
Of  course  the  delicacies  mentioned  above  are  for  the 
officers'  use  alone.  When  in  port  or  on  a  short 
cruise  the  sailors  get  fresh  meat,  bread,  fruit,  vege- 
tables and  milk.  On  a  long  voyage  their  staple  is 
"salt  horse,  hard  tack,  and  boot-leg,"  which,  being 
translated,  is  corned  beef  or  pork,  with  crackers  and 
black  coffee.  They  receive  frequently,  too,  oatmeal 
and  rice,  hot  rolls  and  tea. 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  important  items  of  ice 
and  fresh  water  do  not  appear  in  the  list  of  supplies. 
Neither  is  taken  aboard  from  the  outside.  The  ship 
condenses  fresh  water  pumped  in  from  the  sea  by 
ingenious  machinery  contrived  for  the  purpose,  and 
the  supply  is  limitless.  From  this  fresh  water  ice  is 


UNCLE   SAM'S  PACKING.  47 

manufactured  in  any  quantity  desired,  and  no 
properly  appointed  modern  war-ship  is  now  without 
its  ice-plant.  It  is  for  the  manufacture  of  ice  that 
ammonia  is  so  largely  shipped. 

In  the  general  disposition  of  the  stores  and  sup- 
plies the  articles  likely  to  be  needed  for  immediate 
use  are  usually  stored  forward  under  the  berth  deck. 
Such  stores  as  cloth  and  made-up  wearing  apparel 
go  in  the  lower  hold,  and  there  are  also  nearly  all 
the  magazines,  guncotton,  and  torpedo-heads,  if  the 
ship  carries  them. 

The  coal  bunkers  on  the  Osprey  were  located  be- 
tween the  engines  and  boilers  and  the  hull  of  the 
vessel,  at  a  point  a  little  abaft  of  midship.  Thus 
the  coal  afforded  protection  to  the  machinery  from 
projectiles  aimed  at  the  most  vital  part  of  the  ship. 
Such  inflammable  liquids  as  oil  and  alcohol  are 
never  stowed  below. 

Allusion  has  been  made  to  the  "life  centre"  of 
the  vessel.  This  has  been  well  described  as  the 
throbbing  heart  of  every  war-ship  in  the  navy ;  the 
wires  radiating  from  it  like  veins  and  arteries  through 
which  flow  the  life  and  intelligence  which  direct  the 
movements  of  ship  and  crew. 

Innumerable  electric  lamps  light  the  cabins, 
engine-rooms,  magazines,  conning  towers  and  decks, 
while  a  finger's  pressure  on  a  knob,  or  the  turn  of  a 
tiny  handle,  throws  a  flood  of  radiance  streaming  out 


48  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

into  the  black  night,  disclosing  the  enemy  and  ren- 
dering futile  his  attack  or  escape  as  the  case  may  be. 
Other  wires  operate  telegraph,  telephone,  and  signal 
from  the  bridge,  or  move  compartment  doors, 
massive  guns,  and,  on  a  battle-ship  the  huge  turrets 
themselves. 

With  a  ship  elaborately  wired  one  chance  shot  of 
the  enemy  may  thus  prove  fatal.  If  a  shell  should 
happen  to  force  its  terrible  way  into  the  dynamo 
room  and  explode  there,  the  guns  would  cease  firing, 
every  light  would  be  extinguished,  every  officer  cut 
off  from  rapid  communication  with  his  men ;  and  the 
delay  consequent  on  this  derangement  would  give 
the  enemy,  quivering  with  light  and  life,  time  to 
pour  her  tons  of  steel  projectiles  into  the  helpless, 
groping  victim  until  she  foundered. 

At  the  end  of  the  sixth  day,  the  Osprey  was  ready 
for  sea.  Her  men,  her  stores,  supplies,  coal  and 
ammunition  were  on  board,  well  stowed.  Rexdale 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  Paymaster  Ross 
another,  as  the  last  account  was  filed  that  night. 
The  commander  wrote  a  long  letter  to  his  wife, 
Hallie,  before  retiring.  She  was  visiting  friends  in 
the  West,  and  he  had  no  opportunity  to  see  her 
before  starting  on  what  was  doubtless  to  be  a  cruise 
to  the  other  side  of  the  world.  This  is  a  part  of  a 
naval  officer's  life.  "Detached,"  from  this  place  to 
that,  from  one  ship,  or  one  duty,  to  another,  says 


UNCLE  SAM'S  PACKING. 


49 


the  brief  naval  report.  The  officer  receives  his 
written  orders,  and  if  his  heart  aches  a  little,  under 
his  blue  uniform,  no  one  knows  it  but  the  one  who 
receives  the  good-bye  letter,  hurriedly  sent  by  the 
despatch-boat  or  the  orderly ;  and  he  is  ready  for  the 
new  post. 

Paymaster  Ross,  meanwhile,  is  busy  with  half  a 
hundred  lists  and  receipts  and  accounts.  He  it  is 
who  knows  accurately  the  pay  of  every  man  on 
board.  Look  over  his  shoulder  and  read  in  his 
"Register  "  of  current  date  the  salaries  that  our  Na- 
tional Uncle  pays  to  his  nephews  for  naval  services : 


RANK. 

ON  SEA  DUTY. 

ON  SHORE. 

Admiral  (George  Dewey)           .              . 

jfjiq  CQO 

$11  5OO 

Rear  Admirals  : 
First  Nine  

7  5OO 

6  T7K, 

Second  Nine 

5COO 

4  6?*? 

Chiefs  of  Bureaus  

e   CQO 

3,  S.OO 

2.Q75 

Commanders  

•7  OOO 

2  CCQ 

Lieutenant-Commanders  

2  ^OO 

2  12s? 

Lieutenants       .      ... 

I  800 

i  mo 

Lieutenants,  Junior  Grade  

I   ^OO 

I   'iOO 

1,400 

I   IQO 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that,  in  addition  to  the 
amounts  given  in  this  table,  all  the  officers  men- 
tioned (below  the  grade  of  rear-admiral)  are  entitled 
by  the  present  laws  to  "ten  per  cent,  upon  the  full 
yearly  pay  of  their  grades  for  each  and  every  period 

4 


50  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

of  five  years'  service,  as  increase  for  length  of  serv- 
ice, or  'longevity  pay.'  '  Still,  thirty-five  hundred 
dollars,  even  with  that  additional  "longevity  pay," 
does  not  seem  a  very  large  salary  for  the  commander 
of  a  battle-ship  at  sea  and  perhaps  under  fire  from 
day  to  day ! 

Warrant  officers,  namely  boatswains,  gunners, 
carpenters,  sailmakers,  pharmacists  and  warrant 
machinists  are  paid  (for  sea  duty)  from  $1200  a  year 
for  the  first  three  years  after  date  of  appointment, 
to  $1800  after  twelve  years'  service. 

Chief  petty  officers,  including  Chief  Master-at- 
arms,  Chief  Boatswain's  Mate,  Chief  Gunner's  Mate, 
Chief  Yeoman,  Hospital  Steward,  Bandmaster,  and 
a  few  others,  draw  pay  ranging  from  $50  to  $70  a 
month.  The  pay  of  first-class  petty  officers,  of 
whom  there  are  about  twenty  varieties,  is  from  $36 
to  $65  a  month ;  that  of  second-class  petty  officers 
a  trifle  less;  and  that  of  third-class  petty  officers 
$30  a  month. 

First-class  seamen  receive  $24,  seamen  gunners 
$26,  and  firemen  $35.  Second-class  or  "ordinary" 
seamen  draw  $19  a  month,  and  third-class  seamen, 
including  apprentices  and  landsmen,  have  to  be 
content  with  $16. 

Oto  and  Oshima,  as  regular  cabin  stewards,  were 
paid  $50  a  month ;  and  the  wages  for  this  sort  of 
service  on  a  war-ship  run  from  that  sum  down  to 


UNCLE   SAM'S  PACKING.  5 1 

the  pay  of  the  mess  attendants,  which  is  the  same 
as  that  of  apprentice  seamen. 

Just  as  Dave  Rexdale  finished  his  letter  to  Hallie 
the  orderly  entered  and  announced  Fred  Larkin, 
who  had  been  unexpectedly  detained  in  Washington. 

"I  've  been  making  inquiries,  Dave,"  said  the 
reporter,  when  the  marine  had  retired,  "and  I  can't 
see  any  reason  for  your  sudden  orders.  A  number 
of  our  ships  are  to  rendezvous  at  Kiel  next  week, 
to  take  part  in  a  naval  review.  It  may  be  that  you 
are  bound  to  German  waters.  If  so,  give  my  re- 
spects to  the  Kaiser ! ' ' 

Rexdale  shook  his  head.  "I  don't  believe  Kiel  is 
our  port  of  destination,  Fred,"  he  said.  " There  'd 
hardly  be  time  for  us  to  get  over  there  before  the 
end  of  the  review,  even  if  we  made  a  regular 
4  Oregon '  voyage  of  it.  I  'm  afraid  it  's  a  longer 
cruise  than  that.  Who  knows  what  is  going  on  at 
St.  Petersburg  or  in  Tokio? " 

"Right  you  are,"  acquiesced  Larkin.  "I 
should  n't  be  surprised  to  receive  orders  myself, 
any  day,  to  start  for  Japan  or  Korea.  Of  course  I 
should  go  by  way  of  San  Francisco.  If  there  's  to 
be  any  lively  unpleasantness  over  there,  the  Bulletin 
wants  a  front  seat,  sure!  " 

"Well,  I  hope  we  shall  meet  there,  old  fellow," 
laughed  the  commander,  "though  the  United  States 
will  of  course  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  scrap. 


52  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Still,  it  's  as  well  to  have  a  few  of  Uncle  Sam's  war- 
ships on  that  station  or  near  by — say  at  Cavite." 

"If  war  breaks  out  between  Russia  and  Japan," 
said  Larkin,  rising,  after  a  little  more  conversation 
of  this  sort,  "the  big  European  Powers  may  be  in- 
volved any  day,  with  China  as  an  uncertain  force 
just  behind  the  scenes.  You  know  France  is  bound 
to  take  a  hand  if  two  nations  attack  Russia,  and 
England  has  the  same  agreement  with  Japan.  China 
will  do  lots  of  mischief,  if  she  does  n't  play  in  her 
own  back  yard." 

At  daylight  the  Osprey  cast  off  her  moorings,  and 
dropping  down  the  quiet  Potomac,  started  on  her 
long  voyage. 


CHAPTER  V. 

OTO.'S   STRANGE  VISIT. 

IN  N.  Latitude  36°  Longitude  72°  W.  from  Green- 
wich, the  commander  of  the  Osprey  opened  his 
sealed   instructions,  and,  having  glanced  over  the 
lines,  read  them  aloud  to  his  subordinate  officers, 

as  follows: 

"  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 
"Sir: 

"Having  your  coal-bunkers  full,  and  being  in  all 
respects  ready  for  sea,  in  accordance  with  previous 
directions,  you  will  proceed  with  vessel  under  your 
command  to  the  port  of  Hongkong,  China,  where 
you  will  report  to  the  commander  of  the  North 
Pacific  Squadron.  If  his  flagship  should  be  at 
Manila,  Shanghai,  or  any  other  port  at  the  time  of 
your  arrival,  you  will  follow  him  to  that  port  with- 
out delay,  and  report  as  above.  In  view  of  the 
present  critical  state  of  affairs  in  the  East,  and  the 
attitude  of  Russia  and  Japan,  the  Osprey  should 
proceed  with  all  possible  dispatch.  The  crew  is  to 
be  constantly  drilled,  the  passage  of  the  ship  not  to 
be  delayed  thereby.  You  will  follow  the  usual 
route  by  way  of  Gibraltar  and  the  Suez  Canal,  and 
will  call  at  Malta  (Valetta)  for  further  instructions. 
"Very  respectfully, 

" ,  Secretary. 

"LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER  DAVID  REXDALE, 

"Commanding  U.  S.  S.  Osprey. 
"(Through    Commandant,    Navy   Yard,    Washing- 
ton)." 

53 


54  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

A  half-suppressed  cheer  broke  from  the  circle  of 
blue-coated  officers  around  the  cabin  table,  as  Rex- 
dale  concluded  his  reading. 

" There  's  nothing  said  about  ammunition,"  ob- 
served Stapleton,  significantly. 

"The  Department  knows  that  our  magazines  are 
well  provided,"  said  Rexdale.  "I  reported  on  all 
classes  of  ammunition  just  before  we  sailed  from 
Boston." 

"Shall  we  have  a  chance  to  use  it? — that  's  the 
question,"  put  in  the  young  midshipman.  "Oh,  I 
do  hope  there  '11  be  a  scrimmage! " 

"We  're  at  peace  with  every  nation  on  the  globe," 
remarked  Paymaster  Ross  with  emphasis.  "How 
can  there  be  a  fight?  We  've  nothing  to  do  with 
the  quarrel  between  Japan  and  Russia." 

"I  hope  the  little  fellows  will  win  out,  if  there  's 
war  coming, ' '  exclaimed  Dr.  Cutter  heartily.  "I'm 
always  in  favour  of  the  under  dog." 

"Who  is  the  under  dog?  The  Japs  have  the 
enormous  advantage  of  a  home  base,"  said  Staple- 
ton.  "I  don't  know  enough  of  the  situation  to  be 
sure  which  to  sympathise  with,  big,  sturdy  Russia 
with  all  Asia  between  him  and  St.  Petersburg,  or 
snappy,  shrewd  little  Nippon.  Perhaps  there  won't 
be  any  war,  after  all. ' ' 

"I  don't  see  that  we  are  in  it,  anyway,"  said 
Rexdale,  rising.  "Probably  all  our  ship  will  have 


OTO'S  STRANGE    VISIT.  55 

to  do  will  be  to  hang  round  on  guard,  and  protect 
American  interests " 

"And  be  ready  for  squalls!"  finished  the  irre- 
pressible Starr,  as  the  group  filed  out  of  the  cabin, 
while  the  commander  repaired  to  his  stateroom  to 
plot  the  course  for  Gibraltar. 

The  fact  that  the  Osprey  was  bound  for  Pacific 
waters  soon  spread  through  the  ship.  Most  of  the 
jackies  were  delighted,  and  were  enthusiastic  over 
the  prospect  of  a  "scrap"  with  somebody,  they  did 
not  much  care  whom.  A  heated  discussion  arose, 
forward,  as  to  the  merits  of  the  two  nations  which 
were  supposed  to  be  preparing  for  war.  In  the 
midst  of  the  excited  talk  a  black-and-white  kitten 
made  her  way  into  the  group  and  gave  a  careless 
little  lap  with  her  rough  tongue  at  a  hand  which 
was  braced  against  the  deck.  The  hand,  a  rough 
and  knotty  one,  taking  no  notice  of  her  attentions, 
she  drew  her  sharp  little  claws  playfully  across  it. 

This  time  the  owner  of  the  hand,  who  was  no 
other  than  Sam  Bolles,  started  so  suddenly  that 
he  almost  rolled  over;  then,  vexed  at  the  laugh- 
ter which  greeted  him,  he  caught  the  kitten  up 
savagely  and  swung  his  arm  as  if  about  to  throw  it 
overboard. 

Now  Sneezer,  the  kitten,  was  a  special  pet  of 
Dick  Scupp.  Dick  gave  a  roar  at  seeing  the  danger 
of  the  animal,  and  flung  himself  bodily  upon  Sam, 


56  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

who  went  over  backward  in  a  heap,  relinquishing 
the  kitten  (fortunately  for  her)  as  he  did  so. 

"  Well,  I  never  seed  sech  kids  fer  quarrelin',"  said 
old  Martin,  the  gunner,  philosophically  watching 
the  two  men  as  they  rolled  about  the  deck,  scatter- 
ing kits  and  boxes  and  bringing  up  against  the  shins 
of  more  than  one  of  their  comrades.  "Come  off, 
Sam,  and  let  the  youngster  alone !  Let  go,  will  you 
(for  Sam  was  pulling  Dick's  stringy  locks  with 
vigour)?  Here  comes  Jimmy  Legs.  Let  him  up, 
Dick!" 

"Jimmy  Legs,"  whose  real  name  was  Hiram 
Deering,  was  chief  master-at-arms.  The  duties  of 
his  office,  on  a  war-ship,  are  perhaps  more  multi- 
farious than  that  of  any  man  on  board.  He  is  an 
enlisted  man,  rated  a  chief  petty  officer,  and  wears 
the  eagle  rating-badge.  Forward  of  the  mainmast 
his  word  is  law  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night. 
Aft,  his  word  is  taken  by  the  commander,  the  ex- 
ecutive, and  by  all  other  officers. 

The  mettle  in  a  chief  master-at-arms,  or  "Jimmy 
Legs,"  as  he  is  universally  known  among  the  men, 
is  always  thoroughly  known  aft  before  he  is  rated. 
He  need  not  be  a  bully,  but  he  must  be  a  natural 
"master  of  the  situation,"  and  of  men,  in  an  emer- 
gency as  well  as  in  the  routine  of  navy  life.  The 
Legs  is  privileged  to  take  matters  into  his  own 
hands,  up  forward,  when  occasion  demands.  If 


OTO'S  STRANGE    VISIT.  57 

necessity  arises  for  him  to  knock  a  man  down,  it  is 
the  business  of  Legs  to  know  how  to  do  it  with 
science  and  despatch. 

The  master-at-arms  of  an  American  war-ship  is 
always  a  man  who  *has  seen  many  years  of  service  in 
the  navy,  and  passed  through  most  of  the  inferior 
ratings  of  the  enlisted  men.  He  is  a  man  whose 
blue-jacket  experience  has  taught  him  every  trick  of 
the  naval  sailor,  every  phase  of  forecastle  life. 
Hiram  could  neither  be  cajoled  nor  outwitted.  He 
was  stern  with  evil-doers,  but  was  the  most  popular 
man  forward,  in  the  Osprey. 

At  dawn  Jimmy  Legs's  duties  begin,  when  the  men 
turn  out  to  clean  ship.  The  chief  boatswain's  mate 
is  nominally  the  "boss"  of  the  job,  but  it  is  Legs 
who  sees  that  the  men  do  not  growl  or  quarrel  at  their 
work,  as  sleepy  men  will  at  such  an  hour  and  task. 

Mess  gear  for  breakfast  is  piped.  The  men  rush 
to  the  tables.  A  bluejacket  with  shoes  on  steps  on 
the  foot  of  the  bluejacket  who  is  shoeless.  Biff- 
bang!  The  Legs  may  be  'way  aft  on  the  poop 
watching  the  after-guard  sweepers  at  their  work; 
but  he  is  a  man  of  instinct.  In  a  dozen  bounds  he 
is  at  the  scene  of  the  scrap. 

Chuck  it !  The  Legs ! "  is  the  word  there. 
The  scrappers  break  away,  and  when  the  Legs 
shows  up  they  are  seated  side  by  side  at  their  mess 
table,  quietly  taking  morning  coffee. 


58  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

It  is  the  business  of  Jimmy  Legs  to  make  a  tour 
of  inspection  through  the  ship  just  before  "morning 
quarters."  The  ship  is  then  supposed  to  be  in 
shape  for  the  commanding  officer's  approval,  and 
the  men's  wearing-gear  all  stowed  away  in  ditty 
bags.  It  never  is.  There  is  always  to  be  found  a 
shirt  hastily  thrown  here,  a  shoe  lying  loose  there, 
a  neckerchief  and  lanyard  hanging  over  a  ditty-box. 
This  gear  the  Legs  gathers  in  impartially,  no  matter 
to  whom  it  belongs,  and  thrusts  into  the  "Lucky 
Bag  ' '  (which  is  generally  known  by  a  far  more  op- 
probrious epithet),  which  he  keeps  for  that  purpose. 

The  only  way  the  owner  of  the  gear  may  get  it 
back  is  by  reporting  himself  at  the  mast,  that  is,  to 
the  commanding  officer,  for  remissness  in  stowing 
gear,  which  means,  generally,  a  lopping  off  of  liberty 
privileges.  Every  month  the  contents  of  the  bag  of 
gear  thus  accumulated  are  sold  aboard  at  auction  to 
the  highest  bidder  among  the  jackies. 

Finally,  there  is  hardly  a  day  in  port  that  the 
Legs  is  not  sent  ashore  along  toward  noon  to  hunt 
up  derelicts.  These  are  liberty-breakers  carousing 
in  town  regardless  of  the  fact  that  their  services 
aboard  are  needed,  and  that  punishment  awaits 
them  when  they  return  for  overstaying  their  leaves. 
Jimmy  Legs  is  called  for  by  the  commander  and 
gets  a  list  of  the  men  to  be  returned. 

Into  the  steam-cutter  hops  Legs,  and  away  he 


OTO'S  STRANGE    VISIT.  59 

goes  after  the  derelicts.  He  generally  returns  with 
them.  He  may  be  gone  for  some  hours,  or  for  a 
day,  but  when  he  comes  off  to  the  ship,  in  shore 
boat  or  cutter,  he  has  the  men  he  went  after  along 
with  him. 

So  much  for  Jimmy  Legs,  whose  never-ending  and 
varied  duties  Hiram  Deering,  a  grizzled  old  man-o'- 
warsman,  performed  most  admirably  on  the  Osprey. 

The  two  men  were  pulled  apart  and  the  others 
had  hardly  gathered  up  their  scattered  ditty-bags 
and  personal  belongings  when  a  commotion  was 
observed  among  the  officers  on  the  bridge.  They 
were  gazing  through  their  glasses  at  a  puff  of  smoke 
on  the  north-western  horizon.  In  the  course  of 
fifteen  minutes  it  had  grown  to  a  small-sized  cloud. 

"She  must  have  legs,  to  overhaul  us  in  this  way," 
observed  Ensign  Dobson,  with  his  binocular  at  his 
eyes.  "How  much  were  we  making  at  the  last  log, 
quartermaster? " 

"Fifteen  strong,  sir." 

"Then  that  fellow  's  doing  a  good  twenty,"  added 
the  officer.  "Can  you  make  him  out,  Mr.  Liddon? " 

"It  looks  to  me  like  a  'destroyer/  "  replied  the 
other,  readjusting  the  lenses  of  his  glass.  "It  's  a 
rather  small,  black  craft,  walking  up  on  us  hand 
over  fist." 

"Bo'sun!"  called  Dobson  to  a  man  who  stood 
near  on  the  lower  deck. 


60  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"Set  the  ensign." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir!  " 

"There  goes  his  flag!"  said  Dobson,  excitedly. 

"I  can't  make  out  what  it  is,  but  we  '11  soon 
know.  Shall  I  slow  down  a  bit,  sir? "  he  asked  the 
lieutenant-commander,  who  had  joined  the  other 
officers  on  the  bridge. 

"Not  yet,"  said  Rexdale.  "We  can't  afford  to 
tie  up  for  every  fellow  that  wants  to  speak  us.  Let 
him  come  up.  He  '11  signal  his  business  soon,  if 
he  's  really  after  us." 

The  stranger  approached  rapidly,  and  could  now 
be  seen  with  the  naked  eye,  as  was  attested  by  the 
watch  on  deck  lining  the  bulwarks.  There  was  no 
apprehension,  as  the  United  States  had  no  enemies 
afloat ;  still  the  appearance,  so  far  out  at  sea,  of  an 
unknown  vessel  bearing  down  swiftly  on  the  Osprey, 
was  enough  to  attract  the  lively  attention  of  fore- 
castle as  well  as  cabin. 

The  kitten  episode  was  quite  forgotten,  as  the 
men  thronged  to  the  rail. 

"Ah,"  exclaimed  a  brawny  Irishman,  waving  his 
bare  arm  in  the  direction  of  the  stranger,  "w'ot  a 
pity  it  ain't  war-toimes  now!  Sure  it  's  a  lovely  bit 
av  a  foight  we  'd  be  lookin'  for,  wid  that  smoker!  " 

"War  nothin* !  "  retorted  the  old  gunner.  "I  'm 
willin'  to  keep  me  arms  and  legs  on  fur  a  while 


OTO'S  STRANGE    VISIT.  6 1 

longer.  What  's  the  use  o'  bein'  shot  to  pieces, 
anyway ! ' ' 

"Why  don't  he  h'ist  his  ens'n?  "  growled  another 
of  the  crew.  "Manners  is  manners,  I  say." 

"It  is  h'isted,"  said  Scupp,  "only  ye  can't  see  it, 
'cos  it  blows  straight  out  forrard  on  this  west  wind 
he  's  comin'  afore.  The  officers  up  there  '11  soon 
be  makin'  it  out,  I  reckon." 

But  the  uniformed  group  on  the  bridge  had  no 
such  easy  task.  They  scrutinised  the  flag  again  and 
again,  without  success. 

"I  can't  make  the  thing  out,"  said  Dobson, 
lowering  the  glasses,  "can  you,  Mr.  Liddon?" 

' '  Can't  say  I  can.  It  blew  out  once,  and  looked  like 
nothing  I  ever  saw  before — a  sort  of  twenty-legged 
spider  in  the  centre.  It  's  like  nothing  I  ever  saw  in 
these  waters.  If  we  were  on  the  Asiatic  coast " 

"Who  has  the  sharpest  eyes  among  the  men, 
quartermaster?  "  enquired  the  commander. 

"I  rather  think,  sir,  them  Japs  can  see  the 
farthest." 

"Orderly,"  ordered  Rexdale,  beckoning  to  a 
marine  on  duty,  "find  one  of  the  cabin  stewards 
and  send  him  to  the  bridge  at  once." 

Hardly  a  minute  elapsed  before  Oto  glided  grace- 
fully up  the  ladder  and  saluted. 

"Take  these  glasses  and  see  if  you  can  make  out 
that  fellow's  ensign,"  said  Rexdale. 


62  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Oto  lifted  the  binocular  to  his  slanting  eyes  and 
picking  up  the  approaching  steamer  gave  it  a  swift 
glance.  A  moment  sufficed.  Then  he  returned  the 
glasses  to  the  commander,  his  face  alight. 

"Japanese,  sir,"  he  said  simply.  "That  the 
flag  of  Japanese  navy." 

"Dobson  so  far  forgot  his  dignity  as  to  slap  his 
thigh. 

"That  's  so!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  remember  it 
well  enough  now.  What  on  earth  can  a  Jap  torpedo 
destroyer  want  in  these  waters  ? ' ' 

"We  shall  soon  find  out  —  where  's  that  boy? 
Gone  already?  Of  course  it  excites  him  to  see  a 
part  of  his  own  navy  so  near.  Stand  by  for  signals, 
Mr.  Dobson.  Have  your  man  ready,  and  get  out 
your  book."  Dave's  eyes  were  again  scrutinising 
the  approaching  vessel  as  he  gave  the  orders. 

When  the  stranger  was  within  about  half  a 
mile  she  rounded  to  a  course  parallel  with  that  of 
the  Osprey,  showing  her  long,  vicious  hull,  black 
and  low  in  the  water;  and  slowed  down  to  keep 
from  running  away  from  the  American  ship.  Pre- 
sently a  line  of  small  flags  fluttered  up  to  her 
masthead. 

Dobson  examined  them  closely  through  the  glass, 
then  turned  to  his  signal-book.  "One — three — 
seven — five — here  she  is — the  Kiku — that  's  Jap  for 
Chrysanthemum,  is  n't  it?  Run  up  the  answering 


OTO'S  STRANGE    VISIT.  63 

pennant,  signalman.     Then  haul  it  down  and  set 
our  number." 

The  introduction  having  thus  been  politely  per- 
formed, the  Kiku,  first  answering  the  Osprey's  num- 
ber, hoisted  another  line  of  flags. 

"H'm,  they  have  our  signals  pat,"  muttered 
Dobson,  turning  the  leaves  of  his  book.  "Here  it 
is,  Captain.  'Wish  to  communicate.  Have  mes- 
sage for — '  for  whom  I  wonder?  Answer,  signal- 
man. There  goes  the  second  half  of  the  signal: 
'man  on  board  your  ship.'  Well,  that  's  cool! 
What  shall  we  reply,  sir?  " 

"Answer:    'Send   boat  with  message— hurry,'  ' 
said  Dave,  frowning.     "I  don't  like  to  stop,  but 
the  message  may  be  important.     I  suppose  it  's  for 
me,  only  the  Japanese  don't  know  enough  to  say 
so.     Slow  down,  quartermaster. " 

"Slow,  sir."  And  the  indicator  swung  to  that 
mark. 

"Half  speed." 

"Half  speed,  sir." 

"Now,  full  stop." 

"Full  stop,  sir,"  and  the  engines  of  the  Osprey 
were  still. 

The  Kiku  had  taken  similar  measures,  and  chang- 
ing her  course,  approached  to  within  a  hundred 
rods. 

Down    came    her    starboard   quarter-boat,    with 


64  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

beautiful  precision.  The  oars  fell  together  as  the 
boat  left  the  ship's  side,  and  started  toward  the 
Osprey. 

A  ladder  was  thrown  over,  but  the  Japanese 
stopped  abruptly,  backing  water  when  two  or  three 
boats'  lengths  distant,  and  turning,  rowed  a  slow 
stroke  to  keep  abreast  the  gangway  of  the  gunboat, 
which  had  not  lost  her  way.  The  officer  in  charge 
rose  to  his  feet  and  raised  his  cap  courteously. 

"You  have  Japanese  on  board,  sir,  name  Oto?" 
he  called  out. 

"Yes,  sir.     What  of  it?" 

"My  captain  wish  to  see  him." 

Rexdale  gave  a  little  start  of  irritation.  "Leave 
your  message  for  the  boy,"  he  shouted.  "He  's 
my  cabin  steward.  I  can't  hold  my  ship  for  him  to 
visit  you." 

While  this  conversation  was  in  progress,  a  slight, 
diminutive  figure  had  glided  into  the  crowd  of  men 
overhanging  the  rail  on  the  deck  below.  On  hear- 
ing Rexdale's  answer  he  called  out  a  few  rapid 
words  in  his  own  language  to  the  officer  in  the  boat. 
The  latter  answered,  and  the  boat  lay  up  alongside. 
Before  any  one  realized  what  Oto  was  about,  he  had 
climbed  the  rail  like  a  monkey  and  dropped  into  the 
strange  boat,  which  immediately  headed  for  the 
Kiku. 

"Here!"  shouted  Rexdale,  angrily,  "What  are 


OTO  CLIMBED  THE  RAIL  LIKE  A  MONKEY. 


OTCTS  STRANGE    VISIT.  65 

you  about?  Bring  back  that  boy!  He  belongs  to 
my  ship  ! ' ' 

The  Japanese  officer  half  turned  in  his  seat,  waved 
his  hat  most  courteously,  and  spoke  to  his  men; 
with  the  result  that  they  pulled  harder  than  ever. 

"Start  her!  "  cried  out  Rexdale,  furious  with  rage. 

"Start  her,  sir,"  repeated  the  phlegmatic  quarter- 
master,  throwing  over  the  electric  indicator. 

"Full  speed  ahead!" 

"Full  speed  ahead,  sir." 

"Now  port  your  helm !     Look  sharp !  " 

"Port,  sir." 

But  by  the  time  the  Osprey  had  fair  steerage-way 
the  stranger,  veering  in  to  shorten  the  distance,  had 
picked  up  her  boat  and  was  pouring  volumes  of 
black  smoke  from  her  funnels  as  she  too  forged 
ahead.  Her  bows  slowly  swung  to  the  northward. 

The  captain  on  her  bridge  waved  his  hat. 

Dave  set  his  teeth  hard.  "I  'd  like  to  send  a 
shot  across  her  bows!  "  he  muttered,  glaring  at  the 
audacious  destroyer  which  was  plainly  running  away 
from  them.  The  jackies  looked  up  eagerly  at  him, 
with  their  hands  on  the  breach  of  the  four-inch  rifle ; 
not  a  few  fists  were  shaken  at  the  departing  stranger. 
It  was  a  temptation,  but  the  commander  over- 
came it. 

"It  won't  do  to  open  fire,  just  for  a  steward,"  he 
said  to  his  subordinates,  who  were  standing  at  his 


66  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

side  with  scowling  faces.  "On  her  course,  quarter- 
master ! ' ' 

"On  her  course,  sir.  East  by  south,  quarter 
south." 

"It 's  a  regular  insult,"  stormed  Liddon,  for  once 
shaken  out  of  his  regularly  calm  demeanour.  "It  's 
abduction  on  the  high  seas!  It  's  piracy,  that  's 
what  it  is!" 

"More  like  the  press-gang,"  said  Dobson, 
laconically. 

"Well,"  said  Rexdale,  after  a  pause,  "Japan  will 
have  to  apologise  for  that  little  performance  when 
we  ' ve  reached  a  cable  port. ' ' 

"Is  Oto  an  American  citizen?  "  enquired  Liddon. 

"I  'm  afraid  not.  I  never  heard  him  speak  of 
naturalisation." 

"Then  I  suppose  it 's  hardly  an  international  epi- 
sode," said  the  other,  recovering  his  usual  dignity 
of  speech.  ' '  Perhaps  the  boy  is  an  escaped  criminal. 
At  worst,  I  'm  afraid  the  captain  of  the  Kiku  has 
only  been  guilty  of  bad  manners." 

"I  shall  report  the  incident  to  the  Department  at 
the  first  opportunity,"  said  the  commander  de- 
cisively. "They  can  do  what  they  like  about  it." 

But  Rexdale  did  not  make  the  report.  The  next 
morning  he  was  waited  upon,  to  his  utter  bewilder- 
ment, by  Oto  himself,  obsequious,  deft,  and  silent 
as  of  old ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 
A  SCRAP   IN    MALTA. 

THE  lieutenant-commander  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
stared  at  the  little  brown  man  in  utter  amaze- 
ment. 

4 '  Ot o ! "  he  exclaimed  at  length.     ' '  You  here  ?  * ' 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Oto,  placing  a  steaming  cup 
of  hot  coffee  at  the  right  hand  of  the  officer. 

"Come  round  here  where  I  can  see  you.  When 
did  you  come  on  board?" 

"This  morning,  sir,  at  about  three  bells." 

"Who  brought  you?  Did  you  swim  back?"  de- 
manded Rexdale,  still  mystified. 

"No,  sir.  I  came  in  the  Kikii  s  boat,"  said  Oto, 
showing  his  white  teeth  in  a  genial  smile.  "There 
was  fog.  The  Osprey  was  going  at  less  than  half 
speed,  and  the  lookouts  did  not  see  me.  We  came 
very  quiet." 

"Well,  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself, 
any  way?"  asked  Dave,  irritated  at  the  boy's  self- 
possession.  "Do  you  know  I  can  put  you  in  irons 
for  deserting  the  ship?  " 

67 


68  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  little  Jap  spread  his  arms,  in  deprecation. 
"Very  sorry,"  said  he  humbly.  "It  was  all  mis- 
take. Captain  Osara  wanted  to  give  me  message. 
He  did  not  wish  me  to  leave  ship.  All  mistake. 
So  I  come  back.  Captain  Osara  say  he  apologise. 
Here  his  letter/*  and  he  handed  a  sealed  missive  to 
the  commander,  who  impatiently  tore  open  the 
daintily  folded  sheet.  It  was  covered  with  Japanese 
characters. 

"Read  it  to  me/'  said  Dave,  handing  the  letter 
to  Oto,  who  translated  as  follows : 

"Snip  'KiKU,' 
"  ROYAL  NAVY  OF  JAPAN. 

"To  the  Honourable 
"DAVID  REXDALE, 

"Commanding  U.  S.  Ship  Osprey. 
"Am  desirous  to  tender  most  humble  apologies 
to  your  august  presence  for  having  taken  to  my  ship 
the  man  Oto,  whom  I  restore  tremblingly  to  you. 
Augustly  condescend  to  grant  your  forgiveness,  and 
accept    my  joyful    congratulation   on  your   august 
health  and  the  beauty  and  majesty  of  your  ship. 
"Respectful  veneration, 

"  OSAKA." 

"Well,"  said  Rexdale,  smiling,  in  spite  of  his 
vexation,  at  the  language  of  the  apology,  "what 
was  the  message  ? ' ' 

But  neither  threats  nor  persuasion  could  induce 


A    SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  69 

Oto  to  divulge  the  nature  of  the  communication 
which  had  been  of  sufficient  importance  to  take  a 
naval  vessel  out  of  her  way  and  to  lead  her  com- 
mander to  play  such  a  daring  trick — for  such  it  evi- 
dently was,  in  spite  of  his  polite  phrases — on  a 
United  States  war-ship.  Oshima  in  his  turn  was 
closely  questioned,  but  professed  entire  ignorance 
of  the  matter. 

"I  've  not  a  particle  of  doubt,"  said  Rexdale, 
talking  it  over  with  Staples,  "that  it  has  some  con- 
nexion with  the  strained  relations  between  Russia 
and  Japan.  He  's  a  dangerous  fellow  to  have  on 
board,  this  Oto,  with  his  skill  at  gunnery,  his  high- 
bred manners,  and  his  mysterious  disappearances 
and  appearances.  When  we  reach  Hongkong  I 
shall  dismiss  both  Japs.  They  might  get  us  into  a 
heap  of  trouble." 

Staples  quite  agreed  with  Dave,  and,  with  a  care- 
ful record  of  the  episode  in  the  ship's  log,  the  affair 
was  closed. 

Two  weeks  later  the  Osprey  dropped  her  anchor 
off  the  quay  in  the  inner  harbour  of  Valetta,  the 
principal  seaport  of  Malta.  Rexdale' s  first  care 
was  to  cable  his  arrival  to  the  Department;  next, 
to  mail  his  report  of  the  voyage;  'third,  to  send 
a  long  letter  to  Hallie,  his  wife,  who  would  be 
waiting,  even  more  anxiously  than  the  Secretary  of 
the  Navy,  to  hear  from  him.  At  the  telegraph 


70  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

office  he  found  a  dispatch  from  Washington,  order- 
ing him  to  hold  the  Osprey  at  Valetta  until  further 
instructions  from  the  Department.  He  knew  that 
he  would  need  time  for  coaling,  and  informed  the 
other  officers  of  the  ship  that  they  would  probably 
spend  at  least  a  week  at  their  present  anchorage, 
which  had  been  designated  by  the  harbour-master. 

The  next  two  days  were  busy  ones.  All  hands 
worked  hard  and  became  grimy  from  head  to  foot 
with  coal  dust.  At  length  the  jackies  forward  heard 
the  welcome  order:  "Shift  into  clean  blue,  the 
liberty  party!  "  Working  in  the  intense  heat  of  a 
Mediterranean  July,  the  men  had  been  stripped  to 
their  waists.  Now  they  sluiced  one  another  down 
with  the  hose,  and  gladly  slipped  on  their  spruce 
shore-going  togs.  With  strict  injunctions  to  be  on 
board  before  dark,  thirty  of  the  crew  were  permitted 
to  land. 

Midshipman  Starr  went  ashore  with  Ensigns  Lid- 
don  and  Dobson. 

"There  's  only  one  thing  I  want  to  see,"  an- 
nounced Starr,  and  that  's  a  real,  genuine  Maltese 
cat,  proudly  standing  on  her  native  soil.  I  suppose 
the  streets  are  full  of  'em."  He  and  Dobson  had 
never  before  visited  the  city  of  Valetta,  but  "Doc." 
Liddon  was  well  informed  as  to  its  history  and 
attractions,  having  spent  several  weeks  there  before 
he  joined  the  Naval  Academy. 


A    SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  Jl 

The  moment  the  three  young  officers  set  foot  on 
the  quay,  they  were  beset  by  vendors  of  all  sorts  of 
trinkets,  especially  those  of  silver  filigree- work. 

"What  sort  of  money  do  they  use  here?  "  asked 
Dobson. 

"English,  of  course,"  replied  Liddon.  "The 
island  is  one  of  the  choicest  jewels  in  the  British 
crown,  and " 

"Lend  me  a  dollar's  worth  of  shillings,  will  you?  " 
interrupted  the  other,  "and  tell  me  about  the  jewels 
later,  Doc.  I  want  to  buy  that  bracelet  for  'the 
girl  I  left  behind  me,'  if  the  price  is  n't  too  high." 

The  seller  parted  with  the  pretty  ornament  for 
one  shilling,  and  the  trio,  waving  aside  the  rest  of 
the  merchants,  moved  on. 

"Where  shall  we  go  first? "  asked  Liddon. 

"Just  show  me  one  good  cat — "  began  Bob, 
earnestly,  "and  I  '11 " 

' '  Oh  drop  your  cats,  Bob !  Take  us  to  the  best 
view,  to  begin  with,  Liddon." 

"Well,  let  's  go  up  to  Fort  St.  Elmo.  That 
overlooks  both  harbour  basins." 

"Whew!  Hot  's  the  word!"  exclaimed  Bob 
Starr,  wiping  his  brow  as  they  gained  the  ramparts 
of  the  old  fortress.  "Now,  while  we  are  cooling  off, 
tell  us  about  this  aged  ruin  which  the  Osprey  could 
make  over  into  cracked  stone  for  a  macadamised 
road  in  about  five  minutes." 


72  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"It  is  n't  a  ruin  yet,  young  man,"  said  the  en- 
sign, taking  off  his  cap  to  enjoy  the  breeze,  "and 
the  Ospreys  rifled  four-inch  would  have  to  toss  a 
good  many  shot  up  here  to  produce  road  material,  I 
can  tell  you.  But  three  hundred-and-odd  years  ago 
— in  1565,  to  be  exact — this  old  fort  held  off  a  big 
fleet  and  land  force  for  four  months.  The  Knights 
of  St.  John  defended  it  in  great  style.  Sultan 
Solyman,  who  had  driven  the  Knights  from  Rhodes 
thirty-four  years  before,  -made  up  his  mind  that 
Malta  was  too  good  for  them.  He  brought  about 
a  hundred  and  forty  vessels  and  an  army  of  thirty- 
odd  thousand  men,  to  give  them  a  thorough-going 
house-warming. ' ' 

"Were  there  any  cats—"  began  Starr;  but  the 
lecturer  proceeded  without  noticing  the  interruption. 

"These  forces  were  reinforced,  if  I  remember 
rightly  " — (Cries  of  "Oh,  you  do!  you  do  /  "  from 
the  audience) — ' '  were  afterwards  increased  by  a  lot 
of  corsairs  from  Algiers  and  pirates  from  Tripoli. 
When  the  fort  seemed  on  the  point  of  breaking  up, 
after  four  months'  battering,  the  few  Knights  that 
were  left  entered  that  little  chapel  over  there,  re- 
ceived the  rites  of  the  Church — the  viaticum — and 
went  out  to  start  on  their  last  journey.  They  were 
cut  to  pieces  by  the  Turks;  but  two  outworks  still 
resisted  and  fought  off  the  besiegers  until  help 
arrived  from  Sicily.  Out  of  eight  or  nine  thousand 


A   SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  73 

defenders,  only  six  hundred  were  left  to  join  in  the 
Te  Deum  (you  know  the  Knights  were  a  religious 
order)  as  the  Turks  sailed  off." 

' '  O  my,  look  at  this ! ' '  Starr  suddenly  broke  in. 
"Isn't  she  a  dear!" 

The  officers  looked  up  and  saw  an  extremely 
pretty  girl  approaching,  attended  by  a  maid. 

"What  on  earth  is  that  thing  on  her  head?" 
queried  Dobson  under  his  breath.  "It  looks  like  a 
stu'n'sail!  " 

"It  's  a  faldetta,"  said  Liddon.  "Most  of  the 
ladies,  the  natives,  I  mean,  wear  them." 

The  young  men  rose  from  their  seats  on  the 
bastion,  and  raised  their  hats  as  the  girl  passed. 
She  flushed  and  bowed,  then  looked  down  demurely, 
and  hurried  on. 

"What  language  do  they  speak?  "  demanded  Bob, 
hastily.  "If  I  only  knew,  I  could  ask  her  about 
Maltese " 

"Don't  get  agitated,  my  son,"  said  Liddon, 
calmly,  "and  don't  address  any  young  ladies  with- 
out an  introduction.  As  for  their  language,  it  's 
a  mixture  of  Portuguese  and  Arabic " 

"That  '11  do,"  groaned  Bob,  with  a  heavy  sigh. 
"There  's  no  danger  of  my  breaking  out  in  her 
native  tongue.  What  's  next  on  the  programme? " 

"Well,  we  '11  take  a  stroll  through  the  principal 
street  and  visit  the  Church  of  St.  John,  which  was 


74  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

built  by  the  Knights  a  few  years  after  the 
siege." 

The  street  itself  was  full  of  interest  to  the  young 
Americans.  Sauntering  along — themselves  attract- 
ing no  little  favourable  attention  in  their  natty  white 
uniforms  —  they  met  cabmen  driving  their  little 
horses  at  full  speed,  English  ladies  elegantly  dressed 
side  by  side  with  the  natives  in  their  huge  black 
one-sided  hoods,  flocks  of  goats,  to  be  milked  at 
the  doors  of  customers,  smart  British  officers, 
swarthy-faced  Hindoos,  and  beggars  without  end. 

"This  is  the  Church  of  St.  John,"  said  Liddon, 
as  the  naval  party  entered  an  imposing  portal, 
flanked  by  two  huge  towers.  "Here  the  Knights 
used  to  worship,  when  they  were  not  otherwise 
engaged " 

' '  To  wit,  in  fighting ! ' '  interpolated  Starr.  ' '  Well, 
I  must  say  those  old  fellows  did  well  whatever  they 
undertook.  Look  at  those  marbles  and  paintings !  " 

With  hushed  voices  the  three  young  men  passed 
down  the  long  aisle,  to  one  of  the  chapels  where 
they  were  shown  various  relics  which,  Liddon  said, 
had  been  held  in  the  deepest  veneration  by  the 
builders  of  the  church  in  those  strange  old  days. 
There  were  some  of  the  bones  of  St.  Thomas  of 
Canterbury,  one  of  the  stones  cast  at  St.  Stephen, 
the  right  foot  of  Lazarus,  and  a  thorn  from  the 
sacred  crown.  However  sceptical  the  Americans 


A    SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  75 

might  have  been  as  to  the  genuineness  of  these 
relics,  they  showed  in  their  faces  and  demeanour 
only  their  respect  for  the  belief  of  those  who 
treasured  them.  A  party  of  tourists  came  up  at 
the  same  time,  and  two  or  three  pretty  girls  giggled 
effusively  over  the  objects  displayed. 

"Come  on!"  muttered  Dobson  in  disgust. 
"Let  's  get  out  of  this.  There  are  times  when 
I  'm  ashamed  of  my  race!"  and  turning  on  their 
heels  the  young  men  left  the  church. 

The  gay  scenes  in  the  sunny  street  restored  their 
good  humour,  and  they  visited  successively  a  cata- 
comb chapel — where  the  vaults  were  ornamented 
with  fantastically  arranged  bones  of  departed  monks 
and  knights— an  old  city  gate,  and  some  interesting 
rock-hewn  depositories  of  grain. 

"Not  a  cat  yet,  except  a  yellow  one  that  don't 
count! "  murmured  Bob  sadly,  as  they  turned  their 
steps  toward  the  final  great  attraction  of  Valetta, 
the  Governor's  Palace,  in  St.  George's  Square. 

"It  was  formerly,"  explained  their  omniscient 
guide,  "the  palace  of  the  Grand  Master  of  the 
Knights  of  St.  John,  and  contains  some  of  the 
principal  treasures  of  the  Order.  Here  is  the  Ar- 
mory," he  added,  as  they  entered  a  large  hall, 
containing  rows  of  figures  clad  in  antique  armour, 
and  a  wealth  of  weapons  and  armour  of  ancient 
times.  Here,  too,  was  the  sword,  battle-axe,  and 


76  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

coat-of-mail  of  the  leader  of  the  corsairs  who  as- 
sisted the  Turks  in  the  famous  siege  of  Fort  St. 
Elmo;  the  trumpet  which  sounded  the  retreat  of 
the  Knights  from  Rhodes,  in  1523;  and  a  cannon 
made  of  a  copper  tube  and  wound  with  tarred  rope, 
used  by  the  Turks,  Liddon  said,  during  their  siege 
of  that  island. 

"Compare  it  with  one  of  the  twelve-inch  turret 
rifles  on  our  modern  battle-ships!  "  exclaimed  Dob- 
son.-  "Why,  I  'd  rather  have  a  good  navy  revolver 
to  fight  with  than  this  ropy  thing!  " 

For  two  or  three  hours  more  (a  rest  being  taken 
at  a  small  restaurant)  the  officers  wandered  about 
the  streets  of  Valetta.  Liddon  regaled  his  com- 
panions with  details  of  its  history,  including  its 
capture  by  Napoleon  in  1798,  the  subsequent  two- 
years  siege  when  the  Maltese  had  risen  in  revolt 
against  their  captors,  and  its  formal  cession  to  the 
English  in  1814. 

"It  's  no  use,  boys,  I  'm  used  up,"  said  Dobson 
at  length.  "I  'm  off  for  the  ship;  you  can  come  or 
stay,  as  you  like." 

"Oh,  we  '11  go  along,  too,"  said  Starr.  "I  should 
have  left  an  hour  ago,  but  I  wanted  to  see  how  long 
Liddon  could  keep  it  up,  before  the  pumps  sucked. 
He  'd  make  his  fortune  as  a  filibusterer  against  an 
unpopular  bill  in  the  Senate!  " 

They  passed    along   the   Strada    Reale — "Royal 


A   SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  JJ 

Street " — for  the  last  time,  and  were  just  turning 
down  toward  the  harbour  when  a  slight  commotion 
on  the  sidewalk  ahead  attracted  their  attention.  A 
knot  of  people  had  gathered  around  a  group  in 
which  some  sort  of  altercation  was  going  on. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  cried  the  midshipman, 
"let  's  see  what  's  up." 

The  three  inseparables  pushed  their  way  into  the 
crowd,  the  outer  portion  of  which  was  composed  of 
good-natured  Maltese  and  a  variety  of  street- 
loungers.  Within  this  circle  were  a  dozen  sailors 
from  a  small  Russian  cruiser  in  port.  They,  in 
their  turn,  had  corralled  a  couple  of  small  brown 
men  whom  their  tormentors  were  hustling  rudely  as 
if  to  provoke  a  resistance  which  would  afford  an 
excuse  for  rougher  treatment. 

The  officers  from  the  Osprey  simultaneously 
recognised  the  victims  of  this  assault,  and  with  a 
howl  of  indignation  from  Bob,  and  a  stern  "Stand 
aside,  men!"  from  Liddon,  they  pulled  off  the 
Russian  blue-jackets  and  took  their  stand  beside 
the  Japanese,  who  were  no  other  than  Oto  and 
Oshima. 

l< Amerikanski  !  "  snarled  the  sailors  as  they  noted 
the  uniforms  of  the  intruders  and  closed  in  again, 
while  the  throng  of  idlers  increased. 

"What  's  the  matter,  my  lads?"  said  Dobson  to 
the  stewards,  who  seemed  in  no  wise  discomposed, 


78  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

but  stood  quietly  awaiting  a  favourable  moment  for 
withdrawal. 

"We  do  no  harm,"  said  Oshima,  when  both  had 
given  the  naval  salute.  "These  men,  these  Rus- 
sians"— (it  is  impossible  to  describe  the  tone  of  lofty 
contempt  with  which  he  pronounced  the  word, 
looking  around  at  the  burly  tars,  each  a  full  head 
taller  than  himself) — "they  stop  us  here  in  the  street 
and  call  us  bad  names  and  dare  us  to  fight — the  big 
men — cowards ! ' ' 

Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for  the  little  Jap  that  the 
Russian  sailors  could  not  understand  a  word  of 
English ;  but  the  general  tenor  of  his  remarks  was 
only  too  plain  from  his  tones  and  gestures.  The 
assailants  closed  in  again  with  a  volley  of  incompre- 
hensible expletives  and  unmistakably  threatening 
gestures.  Liddon  was  violently  shoved  aside.  This 
was  more  than  he  could  stand. 

"Take  that,  you  bully!"  he  cried,  planting  a 
quick,  nervous  blow  straight  between  the  eyes  of 
the  fellow  who  had  jostled  him. 

The  man  fell  over  against  his  comrades — the  street 
was  too  crowded  to  allow  him  to  drop  outright— 
and  the  inner  circle  enlarged ;  but  only  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  sailors,  half  of  whom  were  intoxicated, 
rushed  forward  with  a  roar  of  rage.  Before  they 
reached  the  officers,  whose  prospects  of  gaining 
their  ship  in  safety  seemed  decidedly  poor,  Oto 


A    SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  Jg 

spoke  a  swift  word  to  his  chum,  and  each  darted 
upon  a  Russian.  It  was  like  a  terrier  charging  a 
bloodhound;  but  with  a  lightning-like  grasp  and 
twist  of  the  arm  the  diminutive  assailants  brought 
to  the  ground  their  bulky  adversaries,  screaming 
with  pain.  Then  the  Japanese  ducked  under  the 
arms  of  the  nearest  bystanders  and  disappeared  as 
if  by  magic. 

Another  momentary  diversion  had  been  effected 
by  this  quick  and  unexpected  display  of  jiu-jitsu, 
but  now  the  sailors  were  about  to  charge  again. 
The  unarmed  young  officers  stood  on  guard,  their 
fists  advanced. 

"You  take  that  big  chap  with  a  black  beard, 
Bob,"  said  Liddon  hastily,  "and  I  '11  engage  the 
brute  next  to  him.  Dob.,  you  look  out  for  the 
beauty  with  red  hair.  Steady,  now,  fellows,  here 
they  come!  " 

But  before  the  two  parties  fairly  clashed,  a  ring- 
ing shout  rent  the  air. 

"Hooroar,  byes,  it  's  a  scrap!  "  shouted  a  jovial 
voice  well  known  to  the  Americans.  Then  the  tone 
changed.  "Ah — h —  sure  it  's  the  darlints  of  en- 
signs and  the  middy  from  the  Osprey  !  Come  on, 
byes,  let  'em  have  it !  " 

The  officers  were  glad  enough  of  reinforcements 
to  overlook  the  slight  to  their  dignified  rank  on 
board  ship.  In  a  moment  the  affair  was  over. 


8O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Half  a  dozen  Russians  were  rolling  in  the  dust,  while 
the  rest  fell  back  in  disorder  before  the  onslaught  of 
the  Osprey  s  jackies,  led  by  Pat  Ryan  and  Dick 
Scupp,  who,  it  afterwards  turned  out,  had  been 
directed  to  the  spot  by  Oto,  and  had  rushed  ahead 
with  no  clear  idea  of  what  was  the  matter  until  they 
caught  sight  of  the  white  duck  and  gold  braid  of 
their  own  officers'  uniforms. 

"Down  to  the  boats  in  a  hurry,  lads!  "  shouted 
Liddon,  leading  the  way,  as  he  heard  cries  of 
"Police!  Police!  "  on  the  outskirts  of  the  throng. 

A  rush  for  the  quay,  and  the  Osprey  men  scram- 
bled into  their  boats,  taking  the  two  Japanese  with 
them.  The  Russians  gathered  on  the  steps  shaking 
their  fists  at  the  "  Amerikanski,"  but  no  further 
harm  was  done,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  "liberty 
party,"  officers  and  all,  were  safe  on  board  the 
gunboat. 

"  'T  was  a  lively  brush,  sir,"  said  Ensign  Liddon, 
reporting  the  affair  to  Rexdale;  "but  I  think 
nothing  will  come  of  it.  We  must  keep  away,  and 
keep  our  men  away,  from  Russians  just  now,  when 
their  feeling  against  Americans  is  running  pretty 
high." 

"Very  true,"  said  the  lieutenant-commander, 
smiling.  "I  'm  glad  it  was  no  worse.  And  Oto, 
Oshima,  no  more  shore  leave  for  you,  while  the 
Neva  is  in  port ! ' ' 


A    SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  8 1 

Liddon  proved  to  be  right  in  his  conjecture. 
The  police,  arriving  just  too  late  to  witness  the 
affray,  and  seeing  that  trouble  had  arisen  between 
sailors  of  different  nationalities,  hardly  went  through 
the  form  of  pursuing  the  participants,  and  let  the 
whole  matter  drop ;  such  squabbles  being  common 
in  every  large  seaport  where  war-ships  lie  in  the 
stream  and  their  crews  have  liberty  ashore. 

The  Neva  sailed  for  the  Baltic  two  days  later,  and 
within  a  week  Rexdale  received  orders  from  the 
Department  to  proceed  eastward.  Then  came  a 
succession  of  wonderfully  beautiful  days  and  nights 
on  the  blue  Mediterranean,  the  Osprey  tossing  the 
foam  from  her  stem  in  showers  of  sparkling  silver, 
and  startling  the  flying  fish  that  flashed  from  wave 
to  wave,  until  the  low,  tawny  shores  of  Africa  came 
in  sight. 

"To  think  that  I  'm  actually  gazing  upon  Egypt !  " 
exclaimed  Bob  Starr,  as  he  stood  on  the  bridge  one 
fair  July  morning.  "Those  are  really  the  'sands  of 
the  desert,'  and  that  scraggy-looking  feather-duster 
is  a  palm  ! ' ' 

Small  vessels  with  great  ruddy  lateen  sails  hovered 
about  the  war-ship  as  she  advanced.  A  shark's 
black,  sickle-like  fin  drifted  carelessly  astern  while 
the  fierce  fish,  all  alert  below  the  surface,  watched 
for  prey. 

Now  Damietta  was  reached,  and  Port  Said.     The 

6 


82  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Osprey,  awaiting  her  turn,  meekly  entered  the  Canal 
in  the  rear  of  a  big  Dutch  merchant  steamer.  There 
was  little  for  the  officers  or  men  to  do,  and  they 
clustered  at  the  rails,  and  on  the  quarter-deck,  gaz- 
ing out  over  the  marshes  and  plains  of  Egypt — the 
crew  blankly,  for  the  most  part;  the  more  highly 
educated  graduates  of  Annapolis  with  thoughts  of 
the  great,  dim  Past  to  which  this  storied  land  of  the 
Pharaohs  bore  silent  witness.  Here  Abraham  wan- 
dered, from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees;  across  those  sands 
marched  the  hordes  of  Rameses  II.,  going  up  against 
the  Syrians. 

Now  and  then  the  ship  halted  in  basins  cut  for 
the  purpose,  like  railroad  sidings,  to  allow  north- 
bound vessels  to  pass.  Nearly  every  ship  was  fly- 
ing the  Union  Jack,  for  three-quarters  of  all  the 
tonnage  that  passes  through  the  Canal  belongs  to 
Great  Britain.  Next  in  order  of  frequency  came 
the  French,  Dutch,  and  Germans. 

"Sure,  it  's  hungry  I  am  for  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,"  said  Pat,  gazing  gloomily  at  a  broad  Ger- 
man ensign  at  Ismalia,  half-way  across  the  Isthmus. 
"I  'm  tired  o'  jumpin'  lions  and  two-headed  aigles 
and  rid  crosses ! ' ' 

Onward  again.  Here  a  little  village  of  mud-huts, 
with  its  clump  of  "feather-dusters,"  as  Bob  per- 
sisted in  calling  the  palms ;  there  a  caravan  plodding 
along  the  marshes  against  the  sky-line.  Flocks  of 


A    SCRAP  IN  MALTA.  83 

water-fowl  faring  gracefully  over  the  broad  pools 
gave  place  to  yellow  sands,  and  the  sands  again  to 
clear  green  water  and  sighing  reeds. 

At  last  the  good  ship  Osprey  emerged  from  the 
narrow,  lonely,  sluggish  stream  into  the  sparkling 
waters  of  the  Indian  Ocean. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

O-H ANA-SAN 'S   PARTY. 

O-HANA-SAN  was  to  give  a  party.  She 
announced  the  fact  with  pride  to  her  school- 
mates, who,  with  the  frankness  peculiar  to  child- 
hood, eagerly  demanded  invitations.  Had  they 
been  older,  they  would  have  called  on  the  lady 
who  was  to  entertain,  and,  after  flattering  her  and 
making  their  personal  regard  for  her  as  prominent 
as  possible,  would  have  brought  the  conversation 
round  to  the  party,  in  order  to  show  that  they  knew 
all  about  it  and  of  course  should  expect  an  invita- 
tion. Being  little  girls,  they  just  said,  one  and  all, 
"Oh,  do  ask  me  to  come,  Hana!" 

Miss  Blossom  (for  that  is  the  English  equivalent 
for  her  name)  considered. 

"I  can  only  invite  twelve,"  she  finally  announced. 
" Twelve  girls,"  she  concluded,  with  a  sigh;  "no 
boys." 

"Why  not?"  demanded  one  of  the  larger  boys, 
pushing  forward.  "You  must  ask  me,  anyway, 
Hana!" 

84 


O-HANA-SAN' S  PARTY.  8$ 

O-Hana-San  shook  her  head.  "It  is  not  per- 
mitted," she  said.  "I  cannot  invite  you,  Oto 
Owari.  Only  girls — no  boys." 

It  was  after  school-hours.  The  children  had  been 
summoned  to  their  tasks  by  a  drum-beat,  and  at 
noon  they  had  marched  out  of  the  schoolhouse,  in 
orderly  fashion,  the  boys  in  one  division,  girls  in 
another.  Once  beyond  the  school  limits,  the  two 
divisions  became  mixed.  O-Hana-San  was  only 
nine  years  old,  and  Oto,  being  fifteen  (this  was 
about  a  dozen  years  before  the  building  of  the 
Retvisan  and  the  cruise  of  the  Osprey]  considered 
that  he  did  her  great  honour  in  applying  for  an  in- 
vitation to  her  party.  He  scowled,  at  her  refusal, 
and  turned  away  abruptly. 

"Come,  Oshima, "  said  he,  to  a  comrade  a  little 
younger  than  himself,  "let 's  go  down  to  the  shore." 
When  Oto  was  disturbed  in  his  mind  he  always 
wanted  to  "go  down  to  the  shore." 

The  town  where  he  lived  was  on  the  west  coast 
of  one  of  the  northern  provinces  of  Nippon,  the 
principal  island  of  the  group  comprising  the  Japan- 
ese Empire.  Oto  was  the  son  of  one  of  the  leading 
men  of  the  place.  He  was  a  bright,  earnest  boy, 
and  often,  after  he  had  been  listening  to  the  talk  of 
his  elders,  he  would  gaze  across  the  sea  toward  that 
mysterious  country  Korea,  which  he  had  heard  his 
father  say  was  "a  dagger,  aimed  at  the  heart  of 


86  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Japan."  He  longed  to  fight  for  the  Empire,  which 
he  adored  with  all  the  passionate  worship  of  the 
true  Japanese.  He  was  an  adept  at  seamanship,  in 
a  small  way,  before  he  was  fourteen;  perfectly  at 
home  in  the  water  or  on  it ;  and  possessed  with  an 
ardent  ambition  to  join  the  navy  which  his  country 
was  then  building  up  in  wonderful  new  ways,  taught 
by  the  pale-faced  folk  of  the  other  hemisphere. 
His  father  could  give  him  but  little  hope  of  attain- 
ing his  wishes,  for  he  could  not  let  the  lad  serve  as 
a  common  sailor,  nor  could  he  afford  to  give  him  the 
higher  education  necessary  for  an  officer. 

Oto's  boon  companion  since  childhood  was 
Oshima,  the  son  of  a  rich  family  who  occupied  a 
handsome  villa  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 
Oshima's  grandfather  had  been  one  of  the  famous 
Samurai,  who  carried  two  swords.  When  the  edict 
had  gone  forth  suppressing  the  order,  or  depriving 
it  of  its  essential  characteristics,  he  had  joined  a 
band  of  Samurai  who  refused  to  obey  the  imperial 
command,  and  in  a  fight  which  followed  he  had  lost 
his  life.  Oshima's  father  was  a  peaceful  man  who 
cared  little  for  war,  but  the  boy  himself  had  in- 
herited his  grandfather's  love  of  battle,  and  made 
up  his  mind  to  enter  the  army.  The  two  boys 
talked  with  each  other  of  their  plans  and  hopes, 
often  and  earnestly. 

By  the  time  the  lads  had  reached  the  rocky  shore 


O-HANA-SAN'S  PARTY.  8/ 

just  north  of  the  village,  they  had  forgotten  all 
about  little  Blossom  and  her  party.  O-Hana-San 
was  a  great  favourite  with  Oto,  it  is  true,  but  when 
once  the  topic  of  the  navy  was  raised,  all  other 
thoughts  fled  to  the  winds. 

"Let  us  swim,"  said  Oshima  at  length,  when 
several  prospective  battles  had  been  fought  out,  on 
sea  and  land.  "I  'm  as  warm  as  if  I  had  been 
marching  from  Fusan  to  Seoul — where  I  shall  march 
some  day." 

"Go  you  and  swim  if  you  want  to,"  replied  Oto. 
"I  have  a  plan  here  to  work  out,  for  manoeuvring  a 
battle-ship  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  with  the  tide 
setting  out  from  land,  and " 

' '  Oh,  bother  your  tides ! ' '  laughed  Oshima.  ' '  Here 
goes  for  a  dip  into  them.  I  '11  come  out  in  ten 
minutes." 

He  was  soon  in  the  water  at  a  good  distance  from 
shore,  gamboling  like  a  porpoise,  swimming  on  his 
back,  treading,  and  performing  all  sorts  of  antics. 

Oto  had  drawn  a  piece  of  paper  from  his  pocket 
and  was  absorbed  in  tracing  a  diagram  of  a  sea-fight. 
After  a  while  he  glanced  up  carelessly;  then  he 
sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  wild  cry. 

"Come  in!  come  in,  Oshima!  Quick!  There  's 
a  shark  after  you  !  ' ' 

At  first  Oshima  did  not  understand ;  but  he  saw 
the  other's  gesture,  and  looked  over  his  shoulder. 


88  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

There,  not  a  hundred  yards  away,  was  the  dreaded 
black  fin,  glistening  in  the  afternoon  sun,  drifting 
rapidly  toward  him  like  the  sail  of  a  child's  toy-boat. 

The  swimmer  struck  out  for  the  shore  with  all  his 
might.  He  was  in  a  little  bay,  and  Oto,  springing 
down  headlong  over  the  rocks,  perceived  that  his 
friend  was  a  little  nearer  the  southern  point  of  land 
than  the  central  beach  from  which  he  had  started. 

"Make  for  the  point — the  point!"  he  shrieked, 
gesticulating  wildly. 

Oshima  veered  to  the  right,  and  the  black  fin 
followed.  Oto  plunged  into  the  sea  and  swam 
straight  toward  the  shark.  There  was  no  more 
shouting  now ;  only  two  dark  heads  bobbing  in  the 
waves,  and  the  little  black  sail  dancing  toward  them. 

Oshima  now  began  to  beat  the  water  with  his 
hands,  making  a  tremendous  splashing.  The  great 
fish,  startled  by  the  commotion,  paused,  and  the 
ugly  fin  seemed  irresolute.  Oshima  was  now  swim- 
ming more  slowly.  Younger  than  Oto,  and  far  less 
robust,  he  was  becoming  exhausted.  Every  mo- 
ment he  expected  to  feel  the  clutch  of  those  terrible 
jaws.  He  struck  out  madly,  but  made  little  progress. 

The  shark,  meanwhile,  made  up  his  mind.  The 
new  morsel  was  coming  directly  toward  him,  while 
the  first  seemed  in  a  fair  way  of  escaping  to  shallow 
water  if  not  to  the  land  itself.  The  monster,  with 
a  twist  of  his  tail,  turned  again  and  made  for  Oto, 


O-HANA-SAN'S  PARTY.  89 

though  not  very  rapidly,  for  the  splashing  made  the 
fish  wary. 

At  last  the  critical  moment  came.  Oto  had  heard 
an  old  pearl-fisher  tell  of  many  a  battle  with  the 
man-eating  sharks  of  the  Pacific.  As  the  huge 
creature  began  to  turn,  to  seize  his  prey,  the  black 
fin  disappeared.  Quick  as  a  flash  Oto  doubled  him- 
self in  the  water  and  dived. .  A  moment  later  a  red 
stain  dyed  the  surface  of  the  sea.  The  boy  had 
drawn  a  sharp  dagger  from  his  belt  and  stabbed  up- 
ward as  his  assailant  passed  over  him. 

There  was  no  more  battle.  The  shark  had 
enough  of  Oto  and  fled  for  the  depths  of  the  ocean 
while  his  victor,  watching  sharply  for  his  late  foe, 
made  his  way  ashore  as  swiftly  as  possible.  He 
found  Oshima  stretched  upon  the  sand,  uninjured 
but  almost  unconscious  from  fright  and  exhaustion. 

It  was  this  incident,  the  self-forgetful  valour  of 
his  son's  friend,  saving  the  former's  life  at  the  peril 
of  his  own,  that  led  Oshima's  father,  a  few  days 
afterward,  to  make  the  offer  that  changed  the  boy's 
whole  life.  He  proposed  to  the  elder  Owari  to  send 
Oto  at  his  own  expense  to  any  naval  school  in  the 
world,  and  educate  him  for  the  Japanese  navy. 
Oto  chose  the  United  States  Naval  Academy  at 
Annapolis,  as  we  have  seen,  and  graduated  with 
honour,  resigning  only  to  accept  a  post  under  his 
own  Emperor. 


QO  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Oshima  meanwhile  pursued  his  studies  at  the 
Military  Institute  in  Yokohama,  and  received  in 
due  time  his  appointment  as  sub-lieutenant  in  the 
Japanese  army.  Entrusted  with  an  important  secret 
mission  a  few  years  later  the  two  comrades  went  to 
America,  performed  their  duties  faithfully,  and,  in 
pursuance  of  direct  orders  from  high  authority,  con- 
cealed their  identity  by  returning  as  cabin  stewards ; 
the  men  of  the  Osprey  little  dreaming  that  the 
meek,  gentle  "boys"  whom  they  ordered  to  and  fro 
on  menial  errands  were  officers,  older  and  of  higher 
rank  than  themselves,  in  the  Imperial  Army  and 
Navy  of  Japan. 

Thus  the  party  of  little  O-Hana-San  led  to  im- 
portant results ;  for  had  not  Oto  applied  to  her  for 
an  invitation,  and  gone  off  to  the  shore  sulking  be- 
cause of  her  refusal,  Oshima  would  not  have  had 
his  eventful  swim,  the  shark  would  not  have  been 
disappointed  in  a  meal,  Oshima's  father  would  not 
have  felt  the  impulse  of  gratitude  which  influenced 
him  to  bestow  a  naval  education  upon  his  neigh- 
bour's son;  in  short  the  Retvizan  s  plans  would 
never  have  been  laid  before  the  naval  secret  service 
authorities  of  Tokio,  nor,  in  all  likelihood,  would 
Dave  Rexdale  have  been  so  well  served,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  his  two  faithful  Japanese  stewards,  on  the 
outward  cruise  of  the  Osprey  ! 

As  for  O-Hana-San,  she  had  her  party,  and  a  gay 


0-HANA-SAN'S  PARTY.  $1 

one  it  was,  as  gaiety  was  reckoned  in  those  parts. 
The  little  hostess  duly  sent  out  her  invitations,  and 
received  her  guests  with  all  formality.  Her  dark, 
glossy  hair  was  drawn  back,  raised  in  front,  and 
gathered  into  a  double  loop,  in  which  a  scarlet  bit  of 
scarf  was  coquettishly  twisted.  She  wore  a  blue 
flowered  silk  kimono,  with  sleeves  touching  the 
ground ;  a  blue  girdle  lined  with  scarlet ;  and  a  fold 
of  the  scarlet  scarf  lay  between  her  neck  and  the 
kimono.  On  her  little  feet  were  white  tabi,  socks 
of  cotton  cloth,  with  a  separate  place  for  the  great 
toe  (which  was  a  very  small  one,  nevertheless),  so 
as  to  allow  the  scarlet -covered  thongs  of  the  finely 
lacquered  clogs,  which  she  wore  while  she  stood  on 
the  steps  to  receive  her  guests  and  afterward  re- 
moved, to  pass  between  it  and  the  smaller  toes.  All 
the  other  diminutive  ladies  were  dressed  in  the  same 
style,  and,  truth  to  say,  looked  like  a  company  of 
rather  expensive  little  dolls. 

Well,  when  they  were  all  assembled,  she  and  her 
graceful  mother,  squatting  before  each,  presented 
tea  and  sweetmeats  on  lacquer  trays ;  and  then  they 
played  at  quiet  and  polite  little  games  until  dusk, 
when  the  party  broke  up,  and  O-Hara-San  (Spring), 
O-Yuki-San  (Snow),  O-Kiku-San  (Chrysanthemum), 
and  the  rest  bobbed  nice  little  bows  and  said,  quite 
after  the  fashion  of  their  elders,  that  "they  had  had 
such  a  nice  time,"  and  went  home. 


92  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

In  the  years  that  followed,  O-Hana-San,  the 
Blossom  and  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  town,  had  but 
little  chance  to  invite  Oto  to  her  parties,  nor  could 
the  gallant  young  Japanese  take  her  to  the  Academy 
hops;  but  he  wrote  to  her  constantly,  and  now,  as 
the  Osprey  cut  the  waters  of  the  Indian  Ocean  with 
her  snowy  stem,  he  thought  of  the  dark-eyed 
Blossom  in  the  far-off  little  village  of  Nippon ;  and, 
as  he  tripped  to  and  from  the  pantry,  and  returned 
with  delicacies  for  the  cabin  table,  balancing  himself 
gracefully  against  the  rolling  and  pitching  of  the 
vessel,  wondered  how  soon  he  should  stand  before 
her  on  the  quarter-deck  of  his  own  ship,  clad  in  the 
brilliant  uniform  of  his  rank.  As  for  Oshima,  he 
Had  been  waiting  eleven  years  for  a  good  chance  to 
give  his  life  for  Oto ! 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A  BATCH   OF  LETTERS. 
[Dick  Scupp  to  his  Mother.'} 

"  ON  BOARD  THE  '  OSPREY,' 

"  December  20,  1903. 

"  Dear  Mother  : 

"I  take  my  pen  in  hand  to  inform  you  that  I  am 
well  and  hope  you  are  the  same.  We  left  Manila 
two  weeks  ago  and  came  to  this  place,  which  is* 
Chefoo.  It  sounds  like  a  sneeze,  does  n't  it?  It  is 
a  Chinese  port  on  Shantung  Peninsula,  pretty  nearly 
opposite  Port  Arthur,  which  as  you  know  is  occu- 
pied by  the  Russians.  I  wish  I  could  be  home 
next  Friday,  which  is  Christmas.  Tell  Katy  to 
think  of  me  and  I  will  bring  home  something  in  my 
box  for  her.  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  have  lost  that  pair 
of  stockings  you  knit  for  me.  I  forgot  and  left 
them  on  the  deck  instead  of  putting  them  in  my  bag 
and  Jimmy  Legs  got  them  when  he  came  round, 
and  popped  them  into  the  lucky-bag.  I  might  have 
gone  up  to  the  mast  the  next  day  and  claimed 
them,  but  a  lot  of  us  were  going  ashore  (it  was 

93 


94  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

when  we  were  at  Shanghai)  and  I  did  n't  want  my 
liberty  stopped,  so  I  let  them  go,  and  Sam  Bolles 
bought  them  at  the  auction  afterward  for  nineteen 
cents.     That  is  all  I  have  to  say  at  present. 
"From  your  loving  son, 

"  RICHARD/' 

[From  Oto  Owari  to  O-Hana-San.~\ 

Translated. 

"  SASEBO,  January  2,  1904. 

"The  exalted  letter  which  you  augustly  conde- 
scended to  send  me  on  the  I3th  day  of  the  loth 
moon  filled  me  with  great  felicity,  to  know  that 
you  are  in  ever-increasing  august  robustness,  as  you 
were  tormented  with  light  fever  when  I  worshipped 
your  eyebrow*  a  short  time  before.  I  do  not 
know  where  I  shall  go  next.  I  see  Oshima  almost 
daily  at  the  barracks.  A  new  ship  is  fitting  out  at 
the  docks,  the  Fujiyama,  and  it  may  be  that  I  shall 
have  an  appointment  to  her,  or  it  may  be  that  I 
shall  have  to  go  under  the  water.  You  will  under- 
stand later.  I  am  now  awaiting  orders.  Although 
the  war-cloud  in  the  west  is  dark,  the  people  in 
Tokio  celebrated  New  Year's  Day  with  rejoicing 
and  festivity,  as  usual.  The  houses  and  shops, 
Oshima  told  me,  were  covered  with  fruits  and 
flowers,  and  the  streets  decorated  with  flags  and 

*  "  Met  you." 


A    BATCH   OF  LETTERS.  95 

lanterns.  Many  bands  of  men  marched  through 
the  city  singing  old  war-songs  of  the  Samurai.  All 
the  fairs  were  crowded.  Pray  condescend  to  take 
august  care  of  your  exalted  health.  I  knock  my 
head  against  the  floor. 

"Remembrance  and  respectful  veneration. 

"OTO. 

"TO  O-H ANA-SAN." 

[Halite  to  Lieut.  Com.  David  Re xdale,  U.  S.  N.~\ 

Extracts. 

"  BOSTON,  November  15,  1903. 

1 '  Dear  Dave  : 

"You  can't  tell  how  anxious  I  am  to  hear  from 
you.  Your  last  letter,  mailed  at  Suez,  was  a  very 
short  one.  You  told  me  you  had  a  despatch  from 
Washington  ordering  you  to  Shanghai  instead  of 
Hongkong,  and  I  ought  to  have  received  a  letter 
from  that  city;  but  I  have  n't  and  I  'm  worried 
about  you.  If  it  did  n't  cost  so  much  I  would 
cable  instead  of  writing.  Do  write  to  me  at  once. 
If  anything  should  happen  to  you*  .  .  . 

In  September  I  had  a  little  visit  with  the  Holmes. 
Norman  has  been  detached  from  the  Brooklyn 
Yard  and  appointed  to  the  Vulture,  which  probably 
will  join  the  Asiatic  squadron  this  winter  or  in  the 

*  Mrs.  Rexdale  has  insisted  that  some  portions  of  her  letter,  inter- 
esting only  to  her  husband,  shall  be  omitted. 


96  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

early  spring.  Our  old  friend  Tickerson  has  received 
his  commission  as  lieutenant  (first  grade)  and  his 
wife  writes  me  gleefully  on  the  increase  of  pay  as 
well  as  glory.  Do  you  remember  when  you  intro- 
duced me  to  her,  at  Annapolis?  They  say  'Girlie  ' 
is  just  as  proud  of  her  as  he  was  in  the  old  days, 
when  the  other  cadets  (all  but  you,  of  course,  Dave !) 
used  to  envy  him  as  he  walked  down  '  Lover's*  with 
her. 

"You  would  be  interested  in  the  football  situation 
this  fall,  if  you  were  here.  O,  if  only  .  .  . 

"Well,  as  I  was  about  to  say,  Harvard  is  of  course 
straining  every  nerve  to  get  into  condition  for  Yale. 
The  game  comes  off  in  about  ten  days,  and  I  'm 
going  over  to  Cambridge  to  see  it.  Who  do  you 
suppose  is  going  to  take  me?  Why,  dear  old  Uncle 
Richard,  who  happens  to  be  spending  a  few  weeks 
East,  on  business.  Little  Hallie  Holmes  is  the 
dearest  baby  in  the  world.  Was  n't  it  lovely  in 
Anemone  to  insist  on  naming  her  for  me?  Aunt 
Letitia  is  tremendously  interested  in  two  things — 
anti-vivisection  and  the  Russo-Japanese  trouble. 
She  has  attended  several  hearings  at  the  State 
House,  and  at  one  of  them  she  spoke  her  mind  out 
so  forcibly  that  old  Jed,  bless  his  heart,  made  a 
great  racket  pounding  on  the  floor  and  set  every- 
body applauding.  He  had  sneaked  in  without 
Aunt's  knowing  it,  and  on  reaching  home  was 


A   BATCH  OF  LETTERS.  97 

heard  to  express  a  strong  desire  to  'keelhaul  them 
doctors.'  He  takes  great  delight  in  his  lofty 
'cabin'  and  regularly  goes  out  'on  deck  '  at  the  top 
of  the  house  every  night,  to  have  a  last  smoke  and 
a  'look  at  the  weather,'  like  Captain  Cuttle,  before 
turning  in.  Aunt  Letitia  reads  every  scrap  she 
can  find  in  the  papers  about  Russia  and  Japan,  and 
so,  for  that  matter,  do  I.  Sometimes  my  sympa- 
thies are  with  one  nation  and  sometimes  with  the 
other.  Of  course  Japan  is  ever  so  much  the  smaller 
of  the  two,  and  her  people  are  so  quick  and  bright 
that  nearly  everybody  takes  their  side  and  hopes 
that  if  there  is  a  war  she  will  win.  But  then  Russia 
sometimes  seems  to  me  less  like  a  bear  than  a  great 
Newfoundland  dog,  and,  as  somebody  has  said,  it 's 
fairly  pathetic  to  see  how  she  has  been  trying  all 
these  years  to  get  to  the  water ;  that  is,  to  the  open 
ocean,  where  she  can  have  a  navy,  big  and  well 
trained,  like  other  nations.  Her  ships  in  the  Baltic 
seem  like  boats  in  a  tub.  Anyway  I  do  hope  and 
pray  that  there  won't  be  any  war,  after  all.  Surely 
we  humans  know  enough,  have  got  evolutionised 
enough,  in  this  twentieth  century,  to  settle  a  dis- 
pute without  fighting  like  savages. 

"I  miss  you  every  day.     .     .     .     Write  to  me  as 
soon  as  you  can.     .     .     . 

"Your  loving  wife, 

"HALLIE." 
7 


98  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

[From  Fred  Larkin  to  Lieutenant  Staples, ,] 

"  SAN  FRANCISCO,  December  29,  1903. 

"  MY  DEAR  LIEUTENANT: 

"  'If  you  get  there  before  I  do, 
Tell  them  I  am  coming  too ! ' 
"As  I  expected,  the  Bulletin  does  n't  propose  to 
get  left  on  any  unpleasantness  in  the  Extreme  East, 
nor  even  to  take  its  chances  in  a  syndicate.  It 
wants  real  news,  straight  from  the  front,  and, 
naturally,  it  hits  upon  Yours  Truly  to  pick  it  up.  I 
wrote  to  Rexdale  just  before  leaving  Boston,  so  it 
is  probably  no  surprise  to  you  that  I  have  crossed  the 
continent  and  am  about  to  embark  for  Yokohama. 
Indeed  I  may  make  my  bow  to  you  on  the  quarter- 
deck of  the  Osprey  before  you  receive  this  letter! 
The  papers  are  full  of  correspondence  and  abstracts 
of  diplomatic  papers  from  St.  Petersburg  and  Tokio. 
The  language  of  these  communications  between  the 
State  Departments  of  the  two  countries  is  bland 
and  meek  as  the  coo  of  a  dove  or  the  baa  of  a  lamb ; 
but  mark  my  words,  my  boy — there  's  going  to  be 
a  war,  and  a  big  one.  There  must  be,  to  justify  my 
going  out  to  report  it !  Do  you  remember  how  a 
reporter  in  Havana  in  1897  is  said  to  have  cabled  to 
the  home  office  of  a  certain  'yellow  '  journal  not 
unknown  to  fame,  'No  war  here.  What  shall  I 
do? '  And  the  editor  of  the  newspaper  cabled  back, 


A    BATCH  OF  LETTERS.  99 

'Stay  where  you  are,  and  send  full  reports.  I  '11 
provide  war.'  Well,  our  venerable  and  sagacious 
friend  Marquis  Ito,  together  with  the  amiable  but 
distracted  Ruler  of  all  the  Russias,  will  'provide 
war '  for  me  to  write  up,  and  that  before  many 
days.  And  the  little  Japs  will  strike  first,  see  if 
they  don't!  Tell  Rexdale,  please,  that  I  'm  on  my 
way.  If  anything  good  happens  before  I  see  you, 
'  make  a  note  on, '  and  give  it  to  me  for  a  Bulletin 
story. 

"Yours  ever, 

"LARKIN." 

{From  Lieutenant  Commander  Rexdale  to  Hallie.^ 

Extract. 

"  CAVITE,  P.  I.,  December  2,  1903. 

".  .  .  From  Shanghai  we  were  ordered  to 
this  port,  where  we  have  been  lying  for  nearly  a 
month,  doing  guard  duty.  Next  Thursday  we  sail 
for  Chefoo,  the  Chinese  seaport  not  far  from  Wei- 
hai-wei,  where  Pechili  Strait  opens  into  the  Yellow 
Sea.  At  that  station  we  shall  be  quite  near  Korea 
and  Port  Arthur,  and  if  there  is  any  trouble  we 
shall  be  spectators,  though  almost  certainly  not 
participants,  so  you  need  not  worry  when  you  see 
by  the  naval  despatches  at  home  that  we  are  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  Debatable  Land.  It  is  hard,  I  've 
no  doubt,  for  you  to  realise  how  the  war-fever  is 


100  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

growing,  out  here.  I  am  told  that  the  Japanese 
have  been  steadily  preparing  for  this  final,  trial  of 
her  strength  with  Russia  for  years  past.  You  may 
be  interested  in  the  make-up  of  the  Jap.  army. 
Under  the  present  law  all  males  are  subject  to 
conscription  at  the  age  of  twenty.  There  is  no 
distinction  of  class,  and  there  are  no  exemptions 
except  for  physical  disabilities,  or  because  the  con- 
script is  the  sole  support  of  indigent  parents,  a 
student  in  certain  schools,  or  a  member  of  certain 
branches  of  civil  service. 

"The  first  term  of  service  is  between  the  ages  of 
twenty  and  twenty-three.  Then  the  soldier  enters 
the  first  reserve,  where  he  serves  between  the  ages 
of  twenty-three  and  twenty-six.  After  that  he 
goes  to  the  second  reserve,  where  his  service  is  be- 
tween the  ages  of  twenty-six  and  thirty-one;  and 
then  to  the  general  national  reserve,  which  includes 
all  males  between  the  ages  of  seventeen  and  forty 
not  already  in  active  service. 

".  .  .  I  was  called  off,  yesterday  afternoon, 
from  my  writing,  and  later  in  the  day  I  learned 
that  there  is  trouble  in  Seoul,  the  capital  of  Korea. 
There  are  lots  of  Japanese  and  Russians  there,  and, 
with  the  Korean  natives  hating  all  foreigners,  there 
is  material  for  a  good  deal  of  disturbance.  Several 
riots  have  occurred  in  the  streets,  and  it  is  said  that 
our  minister  has  cabled  to  Washington  asking  for  a 


A   BATCH  OF  LETTERS.  IOI 

war-ship  at  Chemulpo,  the  port  of  Seoul.  If  the 
Department  assents,  the  talk  is  that  either  the 
Wilmington  or  the  Osprey  will  be  detailed  for  that 
duty.  I  must  say  I  hope  it  will  be  our  little  ship, 
and  so  do  all  our  officers.  Midshipman  Starr  puts 
it  very  well:  'When  I  was  a  boy,  I  always  liked  to 
get  right  up  against  the  ropes  at  a  fire! '  He  is  n't 
much  more  than  a  boy  now,  but  he  's  a  fine  fellow, 
and  I  'd  trust  him  to  do  his  part  in  an  emergency. 

"Later. — The  Vicksburg  is  the  lucky  ship,  after 
all.  She  has  sailed  for  Chemulpo,  and  a  party  of 
marines  will  be  landed  and  sent  up  to  Seoul  to  pro- 
tect our  Minister  and  all  other  Americans  and  their 
interests  in  the  city.  The  gunboat  is  commanded 
by  Com.  W.  A.  Marshall,  whom  you  will  remember 
meeting  in  Washington  at  the  ball  three  years  ago. 
His  ship  is  about  the  size  of  the  Osprey -,  and  carries 
six  guns. 

"I  hear  that  the  Japanese  fleet  at  Nagasaki  is  re- 
moving all  superfluous  wood-work,  filling  its  bunkers 
with  hard  steam  coal,  and  preparing,  in  general,  for 
business.  We  sail  for  Chefoo  at  9  A.M.  to-morrow. 

"Your  loving  husband, 

"DAVE." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AT  THE   CZAR'S   COMMAND. 

IVAN  IVANOVITCH  lived  on  the  outskirts  of 
a  small  village  about  one  hundred  miles  north- 
east of  Moscow.  Like  his  father  and  grandfather 
and  many  generations  before,  he  was  a  moujik, 
a  peasant,  with  this  difference :  they  had  been  serfs ; 
Ivan  was  freeborn.  His  father  now  owned  the  hut 
in  which  he  lived  with  his  family  of  wife  and  three 
children — two  girls,  besides  Ivan ;  he  also  owned  a 
small  patch  of  land,  and  an  acre  or  two  of  tillable 
soil  had  been  allotted  to  him  when  the  serfs  were 
emancipated,  with  a  condition  of  slow  payment  to 
the  Government,  a  few  roubles  at  a  time. 

Up  to  the  autumn  of  1903  Ivan  worked  in  the 
fields,  bare-headed  and  blue-bloused,  beside  his 
father.  The  girls  worked,  too,  for  the  father  was 
lame  and  needed  all  the  help  he  could  get.  He 
had  leaned  upon  Ivan  more  and  more  as  the  years 
went  by  and  his  son  grew  from  boyhood  to  sturdy 
young  manhood.  Every  evening  the  family  knelt 
before  the  crucifix  on  the  wall  of  the  living-room, 

102 


AT   THE   CZAR'S  COMMAND.  103 

and  prayed  for  themselves,  their  country,  and  their 
"Little  Father,"  the  Czar,  who  spent  all  his  time  in 
far-off  St.  Petersburg,  they  were  sure,  in  thinking 
of  his  "children,"  the  people  of  the  great  Empire, 
and  loving  them  -and  planning  for  their  good.  In 
return  they  almost  worshipped  him,  as  they  did 
the  figure  on  the  crucifix. 

"Soon  you  will  have  to  serve  as  a  soldier,  Ivan," 
said  his  father  one  day.  The  older  man  had  a  great 
tawny  beard  and  mane  of  hair  like  a  lion's;  Ivan  re- 
sembled him  more  and  more. 

"That  is  true,  my  father." 

"You  are  nearly  of  age." 

"True,  my  father." 

"But,"  put  in  his  mother  anxiously,  "surely  our 
boy  will  not  have  to  fight?  " 

"Nay,  Matouschka,"  said  Ivan  tenderly  but  man- 
fully, "if  the  Czar  commands,  my  life  is  his!  " 

Two  months  later  he  reported  at  the  barracks  at 
Moscow,  and  was  duly  enrolled  in  the  nth  Regi- 
ment of  Infantry,  Third  Division,  First  Reserves, 
of  the  Imperial  Army. 

At  first  the  novelty  was  amusing,  and  Ivan  en- 
joyed the  companionship  of  his  comrades  in  the 
ranks,  the  smart  uniform  and  big  fur  cap,  the  music 
of  the  band,  when  they  paraded  in  the  great  square 
and  the  crowds  gathered  to  see.  But  the  drill,  drill, 
drill  became  tedious,  and  it  was  with  rather  a  sense 


104  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

of  relief  that  in  the  latter  part  of  the  following  Jan- 
uary he  heard  that  the  regiment  was  to  leave  Mos- 
cow for  the  Far  East. 

There  was  no  time  to  say  good-bye  to  his  parents, 
nor  could  he  have  paid  his  fare  to  and  from  the 
village  had  permission  been  given.  So  Ivan  took 
out  his  little  brass  cross,  his  "ikon,"  which,  like 
every  other  Russian  soldier,  he  carried  in  his  bo- 
som, and  murmured  a  prayer  for  father  and  sisters 
and  the  little  mother.  Then  he  buckled  on  his  belt, 
adjusted  his  clumsy  cap,  shouldered  his  musket 
and  was  ready. 

"Where  are  we  going,  comrade? "  he  asked  of  his 
next  neighbour  in  the  ranks,  as  they  marched  to  the 
railway  station. 

"I  do  not  know.     They  say  there  is  to  be  war." 

' '  War — against  whom  ? ' ' 

"The  Japanese." 

"Japanese?  Who  are  they?  Are  they  savages 
or  white  like  us?  " 

"I  can't  tell  you,  Ivan.  We  shall  know  when  we 
see  them." 

"Why  do  we  fight  against  them?  Where  do  they 
live?" 

But  his  comrade  could  only  shrug  his  shoulders. 
He  had  not  the  least  idea  of  the  answer  to  either 
question ;  nor  had  any  man  in  the  company,  only  a 
half-dozen  of  whom  could  read  or  write. 


AT   THE   CZAR'S  COMMAND.  IO5 

"It  is  the  Czar's  command." 

Silently  they  plodded  on,  the  snow  whirling 
about  them  as  they  marched.  Here  and  there  a 
knot  of  people  cheered  them.  This  was  pleasant. 
Ivan  felt  that  he  Was  really  a  soldier.  When  a  lump 
came  into  his  throat  at  the  thought  of  the  little  hut 
in  the  lonely  white  waste  far  to  the  north,  he  gulped 
it  down  and  broke  into  a  hoarse  laugh  which  brought 
down  a  reprimand  from  the  nearest  officer. 

The  troops  were  packed  into  a  long  transport  train 
like  cattle.  When  the  cars  stopped  or  started  sud- 
denly they  fell  against  each  other.  Some  swore  and 
even  struck  out,  but  most  were  as  mild  and  phleg- 
matic as  the  cows  and  sheep  whose  places  they  had 
taken.  Ivan  was  of  this  sort. 

"Never  mind,"  he  said  to  a  man  who  trod  upon 
his  foot;  "it  is  nothing.  My  foot  is  iron";  and 
when  he  was  thrown  against  a  neighbour:  "Ah, 
what  a  blockhead  I  am !  Will  you  not  hit  me,  to 
pay  the  score?  " 

Most  of  the  soldiers  said  nothing.  As  verst  after 
verst  of  desolate  snowy  landscape  was  left  behind 
they  stood  or  squatted  in  the  cars,  silent,  uncom- 
plaining. Why  should  they  find  fault  with  cold  and 
hunger  and  fatigue?  It  was  the  Czar's  command. 
The  Little  Father  in  his  palace  was  caring  for  them. 
It  was  theirs  not  to  complain,  but  to  obey. 

There  were  many  delays  on  the  ill-constructed, 


106  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

overcrowded  Siberian  Railway,  the  black  cord  that 
stretched  across  a  continent  to  Port  Arthur  and 
Vladivostok,  seven  thousand  miles  away.  But 
whether  it  was  seventy  miles  or  seven  thousand  the 
rank  and  file  of  the  army  hardly  knew  or  cared. 
Cold,  hungry,  stiff  from  constrained  position,  they 
bore  all  privations  with  calmness  and  even  a  sort  of 
jovial  good-humour.  At  night  every  soldier  fum- 
bled under  his  furs  and  heavy  winter  coat  for  his 
ikon,  and  his  bearded  lips  murmured  the  sacred 
Name. 

At  length  the  rugged  shores  of  Lake  Baikal  were 
reached,  in  Farther  Siberia.  Here  there  was  another 
halt,  for  the  railway  itself  came  to  an  end,  and  the 
troops  were  ordered  out  of  the  train  at  early  dawn. 

"How  can  we  go  on?  "  asked  Ivan  stupidly.  Be- 
fore him  a  white  plain  stretched  away  to  the  horizon 
line.  To  the  right  were  mountains;  to  the  left, 
mountains.  The  ice-bound  surface  of  the  lake  was 
swept  by  a  bitter  gale,  which  heaped  up  huge  drifts 
and  flung  them  away  again,x  like  a  child  at  play. 
Behind  the  regiment  of  fur-capped  soldiers,  huddled 
on  the  frozen  shore,  was  home;  before  them,  what 
seemed  an  Arctic  sea.  The  snow  fell  heavily,  and 
drifted  around  their  feet.  "How  can  we  go  on?" 
asked  Ivan;  and  a  subaltern,  breathing  through  his 
icy  moustache,  replied:  "I  do  not  know,  private, 
but  we  must  advance.  It  is  the  Czar's  command." 


AT   THE   CZAR'S  COMMAND.  IO? 

When  Russia,  determined  to  establish  a  port  on 
the  open  sea,  though  it  were  thousands  of  miles 
from  her  capital,  built  the  great  Trans-Siberian  Rail- 
way, she  progressed  rapidly  with  her  fragile,  light- 
rail,  single-track  road  until  she  came  to  Lake  Baikal. 
Here  Nature  had  placed  what  might  well  be  deemed 
an  impossible  obstruction :  a  huge  inland  lake  four 
hundred  miles  in  length,  eighteen  hundred  feet  deep, 
bordered  with  mountains,  whose  sheer  granite  cliffs 
rose  from  the  water  to  a  height  of  fifteen  hundred 
feet,  and  in  their  turn  were  overshadowed  by  snow- 
capped peaks.  The  lake  at  this  point  is  forty  miles 
wide.  No  bridge  could  span  its  storm-swept  sur- 
face, no  tunnel  could  be  driven  beneath  its  sombre 
depths.  How  was  the  obstacle  to  be  surmounted? 
A  weaker  nation  would  have  given  up  the  task,  as 
the  French  tired  of  working  at  the  Panama  Canal; 
Russia,  ponderous,  tireless,  determined,  almost  irre- 
sistible, moved  on.  In  the  science  of  Physics,  the 
momentum  of  a  moving  body  is  thus  analysed  and 
expressed :  M  =  m  X  v.  In  other  words,  it  equals 
the  mass  of  the  body  multiplied  by  its  velocity.  If 
either  factor  be  increased,  the  momentum  becomes 
correspondingly  greater.  When  Russia  moves,  the 
velocity  is  slight,  but  the  mass  is  enormous.  When 
the  soldier,  in  the  time-worn  anecdote,  tried  to  stop 
with  his  foot  the  slowly  rolling  spent  cannon-ball, 
it  snapped  his  leg  like  a  pipe-stem.  The  nation  that 


108  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

opposes  Russia  must  itself  be  of  iron  mould,  or  it 
will  snap.  Lake  Baikal  was  a  trifle,  a  mere  incident 
to  the  civil  engineers  who  laid  out  the  Trans-Siberian 
Railway. 

In  the  summer-time  huge  steam  ferry-boats  plied 
from  shore  to  shore,  transferring  passengers  and 
freight  from  the  western  to  the  eastern  or  Trans- 
Baikal  section.  From  November  to  April  the  lake 
is  frozen  over,  but  during  at  least  half  of  that  time 
enormous  ice-breakers,  like  the  heaviest  ocean-going 
tug-boats,  crashed  through  the  ice  and  kept  open  a 
canal  from  side  to  side. 

These  were  temporary  expedients.  The  engineers 
meanwhile  had  not  been  idle.  They  attacked  the 
cliffs  bordering  the  southern  end  of  the  lake,  and 
began  cutting  a  path  through  the  solid  rock  for  ad- 
vancing Russia.  Twenty-seven  tunnels  were  to  be 
bored,  and  have  since  been  completed.  While  Ivan 
waited  by  the  shore  a  dull  boom  came  now  and  then 
to  his  ear,  from  the  blasting.  It  was  the  relentless, 
unfaltering  tread  of  Russia's  irori  heel. 

But  other  means  had  to  be  provided,  in  that  ter- 
rible winter  of  1903,  for  the  passage  of  troops  and 
supplies,  for  although  the  great  mass  of  soldiers  did 
not  understand,  their  leaders  and  the  counsellors  of 
state  in  St.  Petersburg  knew  there  was  urgent  need. 
A  railroad  was  begun  upon  the  ice  itself,  and  before 
March  was  in  actual  operation.  A  thousand  feet  of 


AT   THE   CZAR'S  COMMAND.  IOO, 

water  gloomed  beneath  the  thin  ice  bridge.  Once  or 
twice  there  was  an  accident — a  locomotive  went 
through,  or  a  few  cars,  and,  incidentally,  a  few 
human  beings.  This  was  nothing.  "Forward,  my 
men !  It  is  the  Czar's  command !  " 

The  ice  railway  not  yet  being  complete,  there  was 
but  one  way  to  cross  Lake  Baikal — by  horse-power 
or  on  foot.  High  officials  and  favoured  travellers 
secured  sledges ;  the  main  body  of  infantry,  includ- 
ing Ivan's  regiment,  having  hastily  swallowed  a 
breakfast  of  army  rations,  set  out  on  the  march 
across  the  forty  miles  of  ice  plain,  at  "fatigue  step." 
The  bands  were  forbidden  to  play,  lest  the  rhythmic 
tread  of  the  soldiers,  instinctively  keeping  time  to 
the  music,  should  bring  too  great  and  concentrated 
strain  upon  the  ice. 

Before  they  were  half  a  league  from  shore  the 
wind  pounced  upon  its  new  playthings;  it  blew 
upon  their  sides,  their  backs,  and  their  faces.  It 
pelted  them  with  ice-drops,  with  whirling  masses  of 
snow.  They  leaned  forward  and  plodded  on,  un- 
murmuring. It  roared  like  a  cataract,  and  howled 
like  wolf-packs ;  the  air  was  so  filled  with  drift  that 
each  man  simply  followed  his  file-leader,  with  no 
idea  of  the  direction  of  the  march,  the  van  being 
guided  by  telegraph-poles  set  in  the  ice  at  short 
intervals  of  space.  Hands  and  feet  became  numb; 
beards  were  fringed  with  icicles;  the  men  in  the. 


110  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

disordered  ranks  slipped  and  stumbled -against  one 
another.  With  the  mercury  23°  below  zero,  and  a 
northerly  gale,  hurled  down  the  entire  four  hundred 
miles  of  unbroken  expanse  of  the  lake,  the  cold  was 
frightful. 

Ivan  turned  his  head  stiffly  to  mumble  something 
to  his  neighbour  in  the  ranks.  He  was  no  longer 
there.  The  subaltern  who  had  answered  him  on  the 
shore  was  also  missing.  Like  scores  of  others  he 
had  wandered  off  the  line  of  march,  to  fall  and  die 
unseen. 

Ivan  bent  his  head  to  a  fierce  blast,  muttering 
"Courage,  comrades!"  No  one  replied  to  him  as 
he  staggered  uncertainly  onward.  "Courage,  com- 
rades! "  shouted  Ivan  again.  His  voice  was  lost  in 
the  ceaseless  roar  of  the  gale.  Ivan  peered  out 
from  under  the  mask  of  ice  which  had  formed  across 
his  eyes,  from  his  shaggy  brows  to  his  moustache. 
No  one  was  near  him.  He  was  alone  with  the 
storm. 

It  seemed  an  easy  thing  to  lie  down  in  the  snow  and 
go  to  sleep.  It  would  be  a  joy  merely  to  drop  the 
heavy  musket.  Nobody  knew  where  he  was;  the 
lake  would  swallow  him  up,  and  who  would  be 
the  wiser?  Ivan  halted  a  moment,  pondering  in  his 
dull  way.  Suddenly  he  remembered.  That  would 
be  disobedience  of  orders.  His  officer  had  said, 
"It  is  the  Czar's  command!"  What  madness,  to 


AT   THE   CZAR'S  COMMAND.  Ill 

think  of  disobeying  the  Little  Father  at  St.  Peters- 
burg !  The  peasant-soldier  gripped  his  breast,  where 
the  ikon  lay,  and,  taking  his  course  as  well  as  he 
could  from  the  direction  of  the  wind,  staggered 
on. 

Whether  it  was  five  minutes  or  an  hour  he  could 
not  tell;  but  now  he  saw  dim  figures  around  him, 
plodding  silently  onward.  Whether  they  were  com- 
rades of  his  own  regiment  he  neither  knew  nor  cared. 
He  was  once  more,  after  that  moment  of  indi- 
viduality, a  part  of  the  Russian  army,  and  moved 
mechanically  forward  with  it. 

The  men  huddled  together  like  sheep,  as  they 
marched.  When  one  of  their  number  staggered 
aside  and  disappeared  they  closed  the  gap;  when 
one  fell,  they  stepped  stiffly  over  him. 

"Halt!" 

Each  man  stopped  by  stumbling  abruptly  against 
the  one  before  him.  They  asked  no  questions. 
They  remained  standing,  as  they  had  moved,  by 
sheer  inertia,  letting  the  butts  of  their  muskets  rest 
on  the  ice. 

The  column  had  halted  by  a  rest-house,  marking 
half-way  across  the  lake.  A  few  officials  of  high- 
est rank,  a  newspaper  man  or  two,  half  a  dozen 
merchant  travellers  with  special  passes,  refreshed 
themselves  with  soup  and  steaming  tea.  A  steady 
stream  of  open  sleighs  passed  slowly  by  the  silent, 


112  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

immovable  column.  The  troops  were  fed  where 
they  stood,  without  shelter  from  the  fierce  blast 
and  whirling  snow. 

Soon  the  order  came  down  the  line,  " Forward!  " 

Once  more  the  fearful  march  across  the  ice  was 
resumed.  At  long  intervals  there  were  more  halts, 
when  tea  was  served ;  but  the  cold  increased.  The 
men  now  began  to  surfer  less.  Some  of  them 
hoarsely  roared  out  a  snatch  of  song;  these  soon 
dropped  or  wandered  away.  When  the  winter 
storm  of  Siberia  first  assaults  it  is  brutal  in  its 
blows,  its  piercing  thrusts,  its  agonising  rack- 
torment  of  cold.  Gradually  it  becomes  less  rude 
and  more  dangerous.  Its  wild  shriek  of  rage  be- 
comes a  crooning  cradle-song;  it  strokes  away  the 
anguish  from  the  knotted  joints  of  hand  and  foot 
and  limb.  It  no  longer  repels,  it  invites. 

When  the  long  column  of  staggering,  ice-covered 
forms  reached  the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake  its 
numbers  had  lessened  by  five  hundred,  who  would 
never  face  the  unknown  enemies  of  the  Far  East. 
Ivan  was  among  the  survivors.  His  huge  frame, 
his  iron  constitution,  his  allegiance  to  the  Czar,  had 
carried  him  through. 

He  found  his  company  half  a  verst  ahead,  and  as 
night  fell  he  joined  a  group  of  grim  figures  around 
a  blazing  camp-fire.  Tea  was  made  and  served  out, 
with  regular  army  rations.  The  men's  drawn  faces 


AT  THE   CZAR'S  COMMAND.  113 

relaxed.  They  warmed  their  half-frozen  limbs. 
Rough  jokes  passed.  The  terrors  of  the  lake- 
crossing  were  forgotten.  "On  to  Harbin!"  they 
roared  out  in  chorus,  as  their  colonel  passed. 
"Long  live  the  Czar!" 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   FIRST  BLOW. 

ON  the  evening  of  February  8th  a  fleet  of  dark- 
hulled  ships  moved  silently  westward  across 
the  Yellow  Sea.  In  the  harbour  of  Port  Arthur 
lay  the  pride  of  the  Russian  navy,  most  of  the  ships 
riding  peacefully  at  anchor  in  the  outer  roads. 
They  comprised  the  battle-ships  Petropavlovsk 
(flagship),  Perseviet,  Czarevitch,  Retvizan,  and  Se- 
bastopol,  and  the  cruisers  Novik,  Boyarin,  Bayan, 
Diana,  Pallada,  Askold,  and  Aurora.  Of  the  officers, 
many  were  on  shore,  enjoying  the  hospitalities  of 
the  port  and  drinking  the  health  of  the  Czar.  The 
crews  were  below  decks,  or  smoking  idly  and  talk- 
ing, in  the  low  gutturals  of  their  language,  of  home 
and  friends  far  away.  Secure  in  their  sense  of  their 
mighty  domain  and  the  power  that  reached  from 
the  Baltic  to  the  Pacific,  they  sang  snatches  of  rude 
forecastle  songs,  or  joked  and  laughed  at  the  pros- 
pects of  a  war  with  the  Japanese,  "those  little 
monkeys,"  who  dared  dispute  even  in  mild  diplo- 
macy with  the  Great  Empire.  And  as  they  laughed, 

114 


THE  FIRST  BLOW.  11$ 

and  the  smoke  curled  upward  from  their  bearded 
lips,  and  the  little  waves  of  the  peaceful  harbour 
lapped  softly  against  the  huge  floating  forts,  the 
black  hulls  from  the  east  crept  nearer,  through  the 
darkness. 

Nine  years  had  elapsed  since  the  Japanese  had 
invaded  Korea  and  Manchuria.  In  1895,  victor 
over  the  Chinese,  firmly  established  with  his  troops 
on  the  main  land,  with  his  fleet  riding  in  the  har- 
bour of  Port  Arthur,  which  his  army  had  taken  by 
storm,  the  Mikado  had  been  compelled  by  the 
powerful  combination  of  Russia,  France,  and  Ger- 
many to  give  up  the  material  fruits  of  his  victory, 
and  Japan,  too  exhausted  to  fight  for  her  rights, 
withdrew  sullenly  to  her  island  Empire. 

Three  years  later  Russia  obtained  from  China  a 
twenty-five  years'  lease  of  Port  Arthur,  which. she 
claimed  she  needed  "for  the  due  protection  of  her 
navy  in  the  waters  of  North  China."  Her  next 
move  was  to  secure  right  to  build  the  Manchurian 
Railway,  connecting  her  two  Pacific  ports,  Vladi- 
vostock  and  Port  Arthur,  with  her  western  capital. 
She  had  at  last  reached  the  open  sea.  Vladi- 
vostock,  at  the  south-eastern  extremity  of  her  own 
possessions  in  the  north,  was  blocked  by  ice  and 
shut  off  from  the  ocean  every  winter ;  Port  Arthur 
offered  a  safe  and  open  roadstead  for  her  navy  and 
mercantile  marine  throughout  the  year. 


Il6  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

During  the  years  that  followed  Russia  strained 
every  nerve  to  establish  her  customs,  her  power, 
and  her  people  in  Manchuria.  Japan  saw  the 
danger  to  herself,  but  was  powerless  to  prevent  it. 
Recruiting  from  the  expenditures  of  the  Chinese 
war,  she  prepared  for  the  greater  struggle  that  was 
inevitable.  She  built  up  one  of  the  most  formidable 
navies  the  world  had  seen ;  she  trained  her  officers 
and  crews  by  the  most  modern  methods;  she  re- 
organised her  army  and  laboured  to  perfect  it  as  a 
fighting  machine.  By  wise  laws  and  enlightened 
counsels  she  fostered  her  resources  until  her  treasury 
was  plethoric  with  gold.  At  last,  early  in  1903,  she 
calmly  reminded  Russia  that  the  stipulated  term  of 
her  occupation  of  Manchuria,  save  at  Port  Arthur, 
had  expired ;  that  her  excuse  for  remaining  there  no 
longer  existed ;  that  her  pledges  of  removal  must  be 
kept. 

Russia  winced  under  the  word  "must  "  ;  the  key- 
word of  her  own  domestic  polity,  when  applied  by 
the  nobles  to  the  masses,  it  now  had  a  strange  and 
unwelcome  sound.  She  redoubled  her  efforts  to 
pour  troops  into  the  province,  provisioned  and  forti- 
fied Port  Arthur  for  a  year's  siege,  established  a 
"railroad  guard"  of  sixty  thousand  men, —  and 
blandly  promised  to  retire  in  the  following  October. 

Japan  was  no  less  alert.  One  by  one  the  divisions 
of  her  great  army  were  mobilised.  They  were  drilled 


THE  FIRST  BLOW. 

unceasingly,  by  competent  officers  from  Western 
schools.  They  invented  new  and  terrible  explosives 
and  engines  of  war,  and  prepared  their  battle-ships 
and  torpedo-boats  for  active  service.  October 
passed,  and  the  forces  of  Russia  in  Manchuria  had 
been  largely  augmented  instead  of  diminished. 
More  diplomatic  messages,  couched  in  courteous 
terms,  passed  between  the  two  capitals,  and  greater 
numbers  of  armed  men  flocked  to  the  eastern  and 
western  shores  of  the  Japan  Sea. 

Again  and  again  St.  Petersburg  gained  a  modicum 
of  time  through  silence  or  evasive  answer;  while  the 
rails  of  the  long  railroad  groaned  under  the  heavy 
trains  that  day  and  night  bore  troops,  supplies,  and 
ammunition  eastward.  At  last  the  limit  was  reached. 
On  the  6th  of  February,  at  4  P.M.,  Kurino,  the 
Japanese  minister  at  St.  Petersburg,  presented  him- 
self at  the  Foreign  Office  at  that  city  and  informed 
Count  Lamsdorff  that  his  government,  in  view  of 
the  delays  in  connexion  with  the  Russian  answer 
to  Japan's  latest  demand,  and  the  futility  of  the 
negotiations  up  to  that  time,  considered  it  useless 
to  continue  diplomatic  relations  and  "woiild  take 
such  steps  as  it  deemed  proper  for  the  protection  of 
Japan's  interests."  In  obedience  to  instructions, 
therefore,  he  asked,  most  gently  and  politely  (after 
the  fashion  of  his  countrymen),  for  his  passports. 

On  one  of   the  Japanese  torpedo-boats  silently 


Il8  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

approaching  Port  Arthur,  just  forty-eight  hours 
after  M.  Kurino  had  made  his  farewell  bow  at  the 
court  of  the  Czar,  was  Oto  Owari.  No  one  who 
had  seen  him  on  the  Osprey,  meekly  serving  his 
commander  with  sliced  cucumbers  and  broiled 
chicken,  would  have  recognised  the  trim,  alert  little 
figure  in  the  blue  uniform,  his  visor  drawn  low  over 
his  sparkling  eyes,  his  whole  bearing  erect,  manly 
and  marked  with  intense  resolve  as  he  conned  his 
vessel  through  the  channel  toward  the  doomed  fleet 
of  the  enemy. 

When  the  American  ship  arrived  at  Shanghai,  Oto 
had  at  once  procured  his  own  discharge  and  that  of 
Oshima,  which  was  an  informal  matter,  they  not  being 
enlisted  men  but  merely  cabin  servants.  Rexdale 
was  glad  to  let  them  go.  The  little  Japs  were 
too  mysterious  and  secretive  personages  to  render 
their  presence  welcome  on  a  war-ship  where  the  com- 
mander should  know  all  that  is  going  on,  above- 
board  and  below.  Dave  more  than  half  suspected 
that  his  stewards  were  of  more  importance  in  their 
own  country  than  their  menial  office  would  indicate ; 
and  while  he  could  not  exactly  regard  them  in  the 
light  of  spies — Japan  being  friendly  to  the  United 
States — he  felt  more  comfortable  when  they  had 
taken  their  little  grips  and  marched  ashore  to  mingle 
with  the  heterogeneous  population  of  the  Chinese 
port. 


THE  FIRST  BLOW.  IIQ 

The  torpedo-boats  increased  their  speed  as  they 
neared  the  outer  basin  of  the  harbour  of  Port  Arthur. 
Oto  steered  his  small  black  craft  directly  toward  a 
huge  battle-ship  with  three  smoke-stacks. 

"It  is  the  Retwzan"  he  whispered  to  the  officer 
next  in  command.  "I  know  where  to  strike  her. 
Wait  for  the  order." 

The  Russian  ships  had  their  nets  out.  They  be- 
lieved the  Japanese  fleet  two  hundred  miles  away. 

"Now!  "  hissed  Oto  sharply;  and  in  a  moment  a 
long,  black,  cigar-shaped  missile  leaped  from  the 
bows  of  his  ship  toward  the  Russian  leviathan.  It 
dashed,  foaming,  through  the  water,  sheared  its  way 
through  the  steel  meshes  of  the  torpedo  net,  and 
struck  the  hull  of  the  doomed  Retvizan  exactly 
where  Oto  had  planned  his  attack.  There  was  a 
dull  roar,  echoed  by  another  and  another  a  short 
distance  away.  Wild  cries  and  shrieks  of  anguish 
rose  from  the  Russian  fleet.  Two  mighty  battle- 
ships, the  Retvizan  and  the  Czarevitch,  slowly 
heeled  over,  mortally  wounded.  The  cruiser  Pal- 
lada  began  to  settle.  She,  too,  was  pierced  below 
the  water-line.  Thus  the  Japanese  declared  war. 

The  harbour  now  seemed  full  of  torpedo-boats. 
Flash-lights  from  the  forts  on  the  Golden  Horn  and 
the  Tiger's  Tail  disclosed  the  swarm  of  invaders. 
The  hills  resounded  with  the  sudden  roar  of  artil- 
lery, and  every  machine-gun  in  the  Russian  fleet 


120  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

that  could  be  trained  on  the  audacious  enemy 
poured  its  hail  of  steel  shot  upon  them.  Outside 
the  harbour,  within  easy  range,  lay  the  heavier  ves- 
sels of  the  Japanese,  which  opened  fire  on  the  forts 
and  the  town  from  their  great  turret-guns.  In  the 
midst  of  the  uproar  and  confusion  the  torpedo-boats 
which  had  inflicted  such  terrible  damage  retired  to 
the  shelter  of  the  outer  battle-ships  and  cruisers,  un- 
hurt. The  Retvizan  limped  over  to  the  entrance  of 
the  harbour  and  rested  on  the  rocks.  The  Czare- 
vitch was  towed  out  of  further  danger.  The  storm 
of  Japanese  shot  and  shell  diminished  and  at  length 
ceased  altogether,  as  the  attacking  fleet  withdrew. 
The  assault  had  occupied  less  than  an  hour ;  at  one 
o'clock  all  was  silent  again,  save  where  the  wounded 
were  being  cared  for,  on  the  ill-fated  Retvizan  and 
her  sister  ships,  and  the  crews  of  every  vessel  in  the 
harbour  talked  hoarsely  as  they  stood  to  their  guns, 
with  decks  cleared  for  further  action.  The  first  sea- 
battle — if  such  it  can  be  called — of  the  twentieth 
century  was  over.  Japan  had  struck,  and  struck 
fiercely.  Russia  was  stunned  by  the  blow.  Al- 
though she  did  not  then  realise  it,  her  sea-power  in 
the  Pacific  was  at  an  end,  for  years  to  come. 

"  Sayonara,  Retvizan f  "  said  Commander  Oto 
Owari  grimly,  as  he  headed  his  ship  for  the  open 
sea. 

The  midnight  attack  was  but  the  first  outburst  of 


THE  FIRST  BLOW.  121 

the  storm.  Before  noon  the  Mikado's  fleet  re- 
turned, as  the  United  States  ships  came  back  at 
the  battle  of  Manila,  and  once  more  the  huge  twelve- 
inch  rifles  thundered  and  the  shore  forts  replied. 
The  still  uninjured  vessels  of  the  Russians  came 
bravely  out  to  meet  the  foe,  but  reeled  under  the 
terrible  fire  that  was  concentrated  upon  them.  For 
an  hour  the  bolts  fell  thick  and  fast.  Then  the 
Japanese  drew  back,  and  the  Russians,  dazed,  be- 
wildered, thunderstruck  at  the  swiftness  and  might 
of  the  assault,  again  counted  their  losses. 

"By  order  of  Viceroy  Alexieff,"  reported  the 
commanding  officer  to  St.  Petersburg,  "I  beg  to 
report  that  at  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning 
a  Japanese  squadron,  consisting  of  about  fifteen 
battle-ships  and  cruisers,  approached  Port  Arthur 
and  opened  fire.  .  .  . 

".  .  .  At  about  midday  the  Japanese  squadron 
ceased  its  fire  and  left,  proceeding  south. 

"Our  losses  are  two  naval  officers  and  fifty-one 
men  killed.  .  .  .  During  the  engagement  the 
battle-ship  Poltava  and  the  cruisers  Diana,  Askold, 
and  Novik  were  damaged  on  the  water-line. ' ' 

Three  battle-ships  and  four  cruisers  put  out  of 
action  in  a  single  day !  But  more  was  to  follow. 

In  the  harbour  of  Chemulpo,  across  the  neck  of 
the  Yellow  Sea,  lay  the  Russian  cruisers  Variag  and 
Korietz,  in  company  with  several  war-ships  of  other 


122  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

nations,  including  the  U.  S.  gunboat  Vicksburg. 
On  the  evening  before  the  assault  on  Port  Arthur 
the  commanders  of  these  two  cruisers  were  notified 
by  the  Rear-Admiral  Uriu,  commanding  a  Japanese 
squadron,  which  lay  just  outside,  that  on  the  follow- 
ing day  they  would  be  attacked  at  their  moorings 
if  they  did  not  quit  the  port  by  noon.  Other  for- 
eign ships  in  the  harbour  were  warned  to  withdraw 
from  the  line  of  fire. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  Variag  and  Korietz 
cleared  for  action,  and,  with  their  bands  playing  the 
Russian  national  anthem,  slipped  their  cables  and 
moved  slowly  out  of  the  harbour  to  sure  destruc- 
tion, amid  the  cheers  of  the  crews  of  other  nations, 
who  appreciated  their  splendid  bravery  and  the  de- 
votion of  the  men  to  the  Czar,  at  whose  command 
they  were  ready  for  death  in  its  most  terrible  form. 

At  a  range  of  nearly  four  miles  the  battle  began. 
The  Japanese  squadron  opened  fire  upon  the  ad- 
vancing Russians,  who  replied  as  promptly  as  if  they 
were  the  forefront  of  a  fleet  of  a  dozen  battle-ships, 
instead  of  a  cruiser  and  gunboat  as  absolutely  help- 
less as  two  spaniels  encountering  a  pack  of  wolves. 

Five  shells  struck  the  Variag  in  rapid  succession, 
while  shrapnel  swept  the  crews  repeatedly  from  her 
guns.  A  single  shell  killed  or  disabled  all  save  one 
of  the  gunners  on  her  forecastle ;  another  struck  one 
of  her  six-inch  rifles  (the  largest  in  her  armament), 


THE  FIRST  BLOW.  123 

and  exploded  part  of  her  ammunition ;  still  another 
demolished  her  fore-bridge  and  set  fire  to  the  debris, 
so  that  the  crew  had  to  cease  firing  and  rush  to  fire 
stations.  Two  shells  now  penetrated  at  the  water- 
line.  The  second  bridge  was  wrecked  and  a  funnel 
shattered.  All  this  time  the  Korietz  was  firing 
wildly  and  doing  little  damage  to  the  Japanese,  who 
paid  but  slight  attention  to  her. 

The  Variag,  to  save  the  lives  of  her  remaining 
crew,  turned  slowly  toward  the  shore,  and,  accom- 
panied by  the  gunboat,  regained  her  anchorage, 
listing  heavily  and  evidently  sinking  fast.  Surgeons 
and  ambulances  were  instantly  despatched  to  the 
doomed  ship  by  every  war-ship  in  the  harbour,  in- 
cluding the  Vicksburg.  It  was  maliciously  reported 
that  the  latter  did  not  assist  in  this  Samaritan 
work,  but  the  slander  was  refuted  and  absolutely 
disproved.  Commander  Marshall,  of  the  Vicksburgy 
was  one  of  the  very  first  to  send  boats  to  rescue  the 
sailors,  and  medical  aid  to  succour  the  wounded. 

At  four  o'clock  the  Korietz  was  blown  up  by  her 
commander.  There  were  two  sharp  explosions,  for- 
ward and  aft.  A  mass  of  flame  arose,  and  a  column 
of  black  smoke  rolled  upward.  As  the  noise  of  the 
explosion  died  away  the  Russians  on  the  other  ships 
could  be  heard  across  the  bay  singing  the  national 
anthem. 

The   Variag 's  sea-cocks   were   now  opened,  and 


124  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

the  ship  gradually  filled.  At  five,  a  succession  of 
small,  sharp  explosions  were  heard.  The  Russian 
captain,  fearing  that  the  Japanese  would  arrive, 
begged  the  commander  of  a  British  war-ship  to  fire 
at  her  water-line,  but  he  refused. 

The  list  to  port  became  more  and  more  marked, 
and  flames  burst  out  from  the  sides  and  stern  of  the 
beautiful  ship  which,  like  the  Retvizan,  had  been 
the  pride  of  the  builders  in  Cramp's  Philadelphia 
shipyard  a  few  years  before. 

The  ship's  guns  remained  fast  to  the  end,  but 
there  was  a  tremendous  clatter  and  roar  of  gear  fall- 
ing to  leeward.  At  last,  with  a  slow  and  majestic 
plunge,  the  Variag  sank,  all  her  tubes  charged  with 
torpedoes,  and  her  great  rifled  guns  pointing  up- 
ward. Soon  afterward  the  mail-boat  Sungari  was 
fired,  and  the  flames  sent  their  red  glow  over  the 
harbour  of  Chemulpo  until  it  and  all  the  ships 
seemed  embayed  in  a  sea  of  blood,  while  the 
wounded  and  dying  men  moaned  below  decks.  So 
ended  the  first  terrible  day  of  the  war,  and  night 
fell,  as  softly,  as  gently,  as  on  the  hills  of  Palestine 
long  ago  when  the  holy  Babe  lay  in  the  manger 
and  the  angels  sang  "Peace  on  earth — good  will 
to  men! " 


CHAPTER  XI. 
IN  THE  MIKADO'S  CAPITAL. 

ON  the  evening  after  the  event  narrated  in  the 
last  chapter  a  group  of  foreigners  sat  on  the 
pleasant  verandah  of  one  of  the  largest  hotels  in 
Tokio.  They  were  easily  distinguishable  from  the 
natives  that  thronged  the  street  and  square,  not 
only  by  the  Occidental  costumes — of  the  latest  and 
most  fashionable  styles — which  adorned  the  ladies, 
but  by  the  bright  and  animated  faces  with  which 
they  looked  out  on  the  strange  scene  before  them, 
and  discussed  the  astounding  news  which  had  just 
been  displayed,  "in  real  tea-chest  letters,"  Edith 
said,  on  the  newspaper  bulletins. 

Edith  and  Ethelwyn  Black  had  been  invited  by 
their  father's  old  friends  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Selborne 
to  join  them  in  a  trip  around  the  world.  The  two 
young  girls  were  delighted  with  the  prospect,  and 
with  some  reluctance  Major  Black  consented  to  the 
plan.  His  wife  had  died  five  years  before,  and  a 
widowed  sister  kept  house  for  him  ;  so,  although  the 
separation  bore  hardly  upon  the  jolly  major — from 

125 


126  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

whom  Wynnie  must  have  inherited  her  unfailing 
flow  of  spirits — there  really  was  no  good  excuse  for 
letting  the  girls  miss  such  an  opportunity  to  enlarge 
their  horizon,  mental  and  physical.  The  party  left 
New  York  in  December,  spent  Christmas  in  San 
Francisco,  and  late  in  January  landed  in  Yokohama. 
After  a  brief  tour  inland  they  went  to  Tokio,  arriv- 
ing just  before  the  assault  of  the  Japanese  on  the 
ships  in  the  harbour  of  Port  Arthur. 

On  this  special  evening  Tokio  was  a  blaze  of  light. 
Not  only  were  lanterns  strung  over  every  shop  door 
and  the  porches  of  private  houses,  but  in  groups  of 
twos  and  threes  the  golden  and  crimson  globes 
veered  wildly  through  the  streets,  borne  by  children 
as  well  as  by  their  jubilant  elders.  Newspaper  boys 
ran  to  and  fro  with  extras,  their  little  bells  jingling 
and  their  shrill  cries  sounding  above  the  roar  of  the 
crowds.  The  naval  cadets  of  Japan  in  their  neat 
uniforms  massed  in  a  solid  column,  and  their  cheer 
rang  out,  loud  and  clear:  "Banzai!  Dai  Nippon 
banzai  !  Banzai,  banzai,  banzai  !  " 

Edith  clasped  her  hands  as  she  listened.  "It  's 
like  a  Harvard  cheer,"  she  exclaimed;  "only  it  's 
more  real ! ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel,  blowing  out  a  whiff  of 
smoke.  "It  's  life  and  death,  instead  of  a  mere 
football  victory.  I  wish  I  could  get  the  latest 
news " 


IN  THE  MIKADO'S  CAPITAL.  127 

Just  then  a  slight,  alert  figure  came  up  the  steps 
of  the  hotel.  The  young  man  glanced  quickly 
right  and  left  as  he  reached  the  verandah. 

"Ah,  Miss  Black  and  Miss  Ethelwyn,"  he  said, 
coming  forward  with  outstretched  hand,  "I  'm  not 
sure  that  you  remember  me,  but  that  evening  on 
the  Osprey " 

"Mr.  Larkin!"  exclaimed  both  girls,  rising  and 
cordially  shaking  his  hand.  "How  delightful  to 
find  you  here!  Colonel  Selborne,  Mr.  Larkin,  a 
friend  of  Lieutenant-Commander  Rexdale's." 

"Is  Mr.  Larkin  in  the  navy?"  inquired  Colonel 
Selborne,  meeting  the  young  man's  friendly  greet- 
ing in  his  hearty  way. 

"Well,  no,  not  exactly,"  said  Larkin  with  a 
laugh,  "although  I  am  on  board  the  war- vessels 
pretty  often,  as  war  correspondent  for  the  Boston 
Bulletin.  There  are  half  a  dozen  of  us  here  already, 
trying  to  get  our  passes  to  go  to  the  front,  wherever 
that  may  be.  Just  now  it  's  on  the  fleet  and  at 
Chemulpo,  where  the  Japs  have  landed  a  regiment." 

"O  Mr.  Larkin!"  exclaimed  Edith.  "You  '11 
surely  be  shot,  or  something,  if  you  go  right  where 
the  soldiers  and  battles  are!  " 

"It  will  be  'something,'  then,  I  guess,"  said  the 
reporter  with  another  of  his  jolly  laughs.  "We 
fellows  are  n't  often  shot.  The  greatest  trouble 
we  have,  in  a  foreign  war,  is  getting  within  reach  of 


128  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

bullets  at  all.  These  blessed  Japs  bow  and  smile 
and  promise,  from  dawn  to  sunset,  but  somehow 
there  's  always  some  hitch  when  it  comes  to  actual 
permission  to  start.  If  I  don't  get  my  pass  soon," 
he  added,  lowering  his  voice,  "I  shall  get  a  move 
on,  permission  or  no  permission." 

As  he  spoke,  both  girls  nodded  to  a  man  who 
bowed  low  as  he  passed  them  and  entered  the  open 
door  of  the  hotel.  Larkin,  following  the  direction 
of  their  glances,  stopped  short.  A  puzzled  expres- 
sion came  into  his  face. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said  quickly,  "may  I  ask  you 
the  name  of  the  gentleman  who  bowed  to  you?  " 

"That?  Oh,  that  's  Seftor  Bellardo,"  replied 
Wynnie  carelessly.  "He  's  a  Spaniard,  I  believe, 
travelling  for  his  health,  but  he  speaks  English  very 
nicely.  Have  you  met  him?  " 

"There  's  something  familiar  about  his  face," 
mused  Fred,  "but  I  can't  remember — a  Spaniard, 
did  you  say,  Miss  Ethelwyn?" 

"I  think — yes,  I  know  he  is,  for  he  alluded  to  his 
estates  near  Barcelona.  That  's  in  Spain,  is  n't  it?  " 

"It  certainly  is,"  assented  the  war  correspondent, 
"but  that  fellow — excuse  me,  that  gentleman- 
looked  more  like  a — well,  I  think  the  air  of  Tokio, 
or  the  pleasure  of  finding  old  friends  here,  must 
have  gone  to  my  head.  So  we  '11  let  the  Sefior 
drop.  You  '11  be  surprised  when  I  tell  you  of  an- 


IN   THE  M IK  A  DCfS  CAPITAL.  12$ 

other  friend  of  yours  who  arrived  here  this  very 
day!" 

4 'Oh,  who  is  it?     Tell  us!  "  exclaimed  the  girls. 

" Perhaps  you  've  forgotten  him,"  said  Fred,  with 
a  sly  glance  at  'Wynnie.  "I  declare  there  he  is, 
now !  Hulloa,  there !  Ship  ahoy !  "  he  cried,  beck- 
oning to  a  trim-looking  lad  who  was  passing  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street. 

"Why,  it  's  Mr.  Starr!"  said  Wynnie,  with  a 
gladness  in  her  voice  that  proved  she  had  not  for- 
gotten her  companion  of  the  Osprey  banquet. 

"Come  up  here,  young  man !  "  called  out  Larkin, 
rising  from  his  seat.  "I  would  have  brought  you 
here  to-morrow,  anyway,  but  my  good  intentions 
are  frustrated  by  your  untimely  appearance." 

By  this  time  the  midshipman,  recognising  the 
faces  of  the  two  girls,  had  reached  the  verandah  with 
a  bound.  He  was  presented  to  Colonel  Selborne, 
and  then  came  such  a  rapid  fire  of  questions  and 
answers  as  might  have  been  expected. 

Bob  explained  that  he  had  been  temporarily  de- 
tached from  the  Osprey  to  carry  important  docu- 
ments and  messages  from  the  commanding  officer 
of  the  battle-ship  squadron  (of  which  the  gunboats 
formed  one  division)  of  the  Asiatic  fleet  to  the 
United  States  naval  attache"  at  Tokio.  He  had 
arrived  that  morning  on  the  U.  S.  Ship  Zafiro, 
which  had  immediately  steamed  away  again  under 

9 


130  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

orders  to  return  for  him  at  some  future  day  to  be 
appointed.  He  had  run  across  Fred  Larkin  on  the 
wharf,  that  enterprising  gentleman  being  on  the 
lookout  for  news  from  the  fleet  and  any  scraps  of 
information  the  Zafiro  might  have  picked  up  as 
to  the  midnight  assault  on  Port  Arthur.  Starr's 
official  duties  had  occupied  his  attention  most  of  the 
day,  and  he  was  on  his  way  to  see  the  crowds  at  the 
park  when  he  was  hailed  from  the  hotel  verandah. 

"Well,  this  is  homelike!"  he  exclaimed  with  great 
satisfaction,  as  he  settled  back  in  his  chair  next 
Wynnie's. 

"What  is  the  latest  war  news?"  inquired  the 
Colonel. 

"Oh,  the  Russians  have  got  it  in  the — have  sus- 
tained a  severe  defeat,"  said  Bob,  cutting  short  his 
Academy  slang.  "The  Japs  have  blown  up,  sunk, 
or  disabled  half  a  dozen  of  the  finest  ships  in  their 
fleet.  This  afternoon  Admiral  Uriu  finished  off  the 
Variag  and  Korietz  just  outside  Chemulpo.  The 
naval  attache  got  it  direct  from  the  commander  of 
the  Vicksburg.  I  tell  you,  the  old  academy  made 
itself  felt  when  those  Russian  ships  steamed  out  of 
the  harbour!" 

"Made  itself  felt?  Why,  what  academy,  Mr. 
Starr? "  asked  Colonel  Selborne,  who  was  himself  a 
West  Point  man. 

"Did  n't  you  know,  sir,  that  the  Japanese  Ad- 


IN   THE  MIKADO'S  CAPITAL.  131 

miral  Uriu  was  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy 
at  Annapolis?"  cried  Starr. 

'  '  Is  it  possible?" 

"It  's  true,  and  what  's  more,  he  married  a  Vassar 


"To  graduate  from  the  Naval  Academy  and 
marry  a  Vassar  girl  —  what  more  could  man  desire?  " 
laughed  Edith. 

"Echo  answers  'What,'  "  agreed  the  midshipman 
enthusiastically.  "That  is,  unless  —  Miss  Ethel- 
wyn,  —  "  But  if  he  had  intended  to  ask  whether 
she  were  a  Vassar  student,  his  courage  failed  him  and 
he  lamely  inquired  if  she  "felt  the  draught." 

Wynnie  dimpled  and  then  laughed  outright,  put- 
ting the  young  man  to  still  more  confusion.  Larkin 
struck  in  with  one  of  his  irrepressible  puns  about  a 
"Vassarlating  maid,"  and  the  laughter  became 
general. 

"I  married  a  farmer's  daughter  from  Connecti- 
cut," said  Colonel  Selborne,  "and,  as  a  result,  see 
what  a  charming  pair  of  adopted  nieces  I  have!  " 

In  the  midst  of  the  merriment  that  followed  this 
sally,  Seftor  Bellardo  passed  out  of  the  hotel  door, 
raising  his  hat  to  the  group  and  saying  "Good 
evening,  ladies!"  on  his  way  to  the  street,  in  the 
shadows  of  which  he  soon  after  disappeared. 

Larkin  started  again  and  frowned.  "Where  have 
I  heard  that  voice?  "  he  demanded.  No  one  could 


132  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

enlighten  him,  and  the  gay  badinage  and  laughter 
of  the  young  people  was  resumed,  while  the  far-off 
clamours  of  the  crowds  were  renewed  as  fresh  details 
of  the  victory  appeared  on  the  illuminated  bulletins. 
The  "piazza  party"  at  the  Grand  Hotel  was  pro- 
longed to  a  late  hour,  when  Fred  and  the  midship- 
man took  their  leave,  promising  to  call  early  the 
next  forenoon  in  order  to  show  the  young  ladies 
some  of  the  sights  of  Tokio. 

When  the  correspondent  reached  his  lodgings  he 
cudgelled  his  brain  to  recall  the  time  and  place  in 
which  he  had  met  that  stranger  whose  voice  affected 
him  so  unpleasantly.  He  gave  it  up  at  last,  but 
his  last  waking  thought  was  a  resolve  to  follow  up 
the  mystery  and  establish  that  black-bearded  Span- 
iard's identity  before  he  left  Tokio. 

The  next  morning  the  two  young  men  appeared 
promptly  at  the  appointed  hour,  together  with  three 
jinrikishas  (or  "  rickshaws, "  as  foreigners  call  them) 
of  the  most  gorgeous  description.  It  being  Satur- 
day the  Mikado's  private  pleasure-grounds,  the 
Fukiage  Gardens,  were  thrown  open  to  the  public, 
and  here  the  American  party  wandered  for  an  hour, 
observing  and  discussing  the  broad,  smoothly 
cropped  lawns,  the  cascade,  the  masses  of  dark 
evergreen  trees — unfortunately  the  plum  was  not 
yet  in  blossom — and,  most  interesting  of  all,  the 
carelesss,  bare-headed,  quaintly  dressed,  good- 


IN    THE   MIKADO'S  CAPITAL.  133 

natured  people  who  thronged  the  grounds.  Of  the 
six  thousand  policemen  in  Tokio  not  one  was  visible 
in  the  Garden,  yet  everybody  was  well-behaved  and 
courteous. 

In  the  afternoon  Larkin  took  his  daily  tramp  to 
the  War  Office.  The  sentry  outside  allowed  him  to 
pass  with  what  Fred  could  not  help  interpreting  as 
a  sardonic  gleam  in  his  dark  eye.  The  man  had  ad- 
mitted many  newspaper  men,  during  January  and 
February,  and  had  seen  them  depart,  bearing 
gloomy  and  disappointed  faces  and  using  strong 
language  which  fortunately  he  could  not  under- 
stand. Any  boy  or  man  who  has  ever  drilled  will 
remember  the  wearying  performance  called  "  mark- 
ing time,"  when  the  soldier  goes  through  all  the 
motions  of  marching,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  but 
never  gets  ahead  one  inch.  A  noted  American  war 
correspondent  contributed  to  his  journal  at  this 
period  a  series  of  papers  called  "Marking  Time  in 
Tokio."  No  term  could  be  more  expressive. 

Larkin  found  half  a  dozen  of  his  brothers-of-the- 
craft  in  the  War  Office.  There  were  besides,  in  the 
large,  bare  room,  two  uniformed  orderlies  and  two 
or  three  grave,  elderly,  courteous  generals,  each 
apparently  doing  nothing  by  himself,  and  although 
politely  interested  in  the  welfare  of  the  foreign 
visitors,  unable  to  spare  time  to  discuss  the  war 
with  them. 


134  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Perhaps,"  said  one  of  these  officials  to  Fred,  "a 
column  will  leave  soon  for  Korea.  It  would  give 
me  exalted  pleasure  to  allow  you  to  accompany 
them.  No,  I  cannot  tell  when  or  where.  Must 
you  go?  Good-day  !  " 

The  days  passed  quickly.  Larkin  did  his  best  to 
pick  up  scraps  of  information  and  cable,  or  write 
them  out,  for  the  Bulletin.  His  leisure  moments 
he  spent  with  the  Blacks  and  Bob  Starr,  who  was 
their  unfailing  escort  in  all  excursions.  Once  they 
came  upon  Bellardo  in  full  daylight,  and  Fred 
studied  his  face,  but  had  to  confess  himself  baffled. 
A  rather  dark  complexion,  full  black  beard,  and  an 
odd  mispronunciation  of  English — these  peculiarities 
he  noted;  in  the  two-minute  interview  with  the 
young  ladies  he  could  make  out  nothing  more,  nor 
did  he  even  secure  an  introduction,  Bellardo  excus- 
ing himself,  on  the  plea  of  an  engagement,  and 
moving  away  just  as  Fred  joined  the  group. 

The  correspondents  of  the  great  American,  Eng- 
lish, French,  and  German  dailies  became  more  and 
more  impatient.  Some  of  them  gave  up,  or  were 
recalled,  and  went  home.  The  certainty  that  Jap- 
anese troops  were  being  taken  across  in  transports 
made  the  situation  the  more  aggravating.  News 
of  various  sea-fights,  and  skirmishes  on  land,  was 
posted  by  the  newspapers.  It  was  evident  that  the 
war  was  proceeding,  just  as  if  there  were  no  war 


IN   THE  MIKADO'S  CAPITAL.  135 

correspondents  waiting  to  report  it — at  least,  on  the 
Japanese  side.  The  city  reporters  in  New  York 
were  better  informed  as  to  the  movements  of  the 
two  great  armies,  than  these  scouts  so  near  the  firing 
line,  yet  so  far  away.  Before  long  there  appeared 
ship-loads  of  wounded  men,  sent  back  from  the 
front  to  the  hospitals  in  Nagasaki  and  Tokio. 

Information  was  given  out  that  the  Russians  were 
concentrating  in  the  lower  Yalu  valley,  and  that 
here  the  first  great  battle  might  take  place.  It  was 
necessary  for  Japan  to  strike  across  the  Korean 
peninsula  and  isolate  Port  Arthur,  cutting  the  rail- 
road above  it  if  possible. 

"Larkin,"  said  Starr,  meeting  the  reporter  in  the 
street  one  day  early  in  March,  "I  've  received  word 
that  the  Zafiro  will  be  at  this  port  to-morrow,  and 
I  am  ordered  back  to  the  Osprey.  I  hate  to  say 
good-bye  to  you,  old  fellow!  " 

' '  And  I  hate  to  have  you, ' '  said  Fred.  ' '  Perhaps 
you  won't  have  to,"  he  added  meaningly. 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course  I  must  obey  orders.  I  'm  on 
i  my  way  now  to  make  my  farewell  call  at  the  hotel. 
This  evening  I  '11  run  in  to  see  you  at  your  lodgings 
on  my  way  home." 

But  when  Bob  called,  Larkin  was  not  in  his  lodg- 
ings, nor,  strange  to  say,  was  there  any  trace  left  of 
his  ever  having  occupied  the  room.  No  one  knew 
where  he  had  gone.  He  had  paid  his  bill  in  full  and 


136  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

left  the  house  early  in  the  evening,  taking  the  small 
bag  which  constituted  all  his  luggage. 

With  a  heavy  heart  —  for  various  reasons  —  Bob 
went  on  board  the  Zafiro  the  next  morning,  and 
the  little  despatch-boat  put  out  to  sea. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

BETWEEN  TWO   FIRES. 

"I  SAY,   Farmer,   can't  we  have  a  little  target- 

1  practice  and  hit  something  accidentally — even 
that  Chinese  junk  over  there  would  do — so  as  to 
stir  up  some  sort  of  a  scrap? " 

Lieutenant  Staples,  addressing  his  commander 
familiarly  by  the  old  Academy  nickname,  yawned 
and  stretched  his  arms  in  most  undignified  fashion 
as  he  spoke.  The  two  officers  were  on  the  bridge 
of  the  Osprey,  which  lay  at  anchor  off  Chefoo.  A 
gentle  breeze  barely  stirred  the  placid  waters  of  the 
bay,  and  the  sun  gave  a  hint  of  the  torrid  days  that 
were  to  come. 

"I  'm  tired  of  sitting  here,  like  a  toad  in  a  puddle, 
are  n't  you?"  added  the  tall  lieutenant,  straighten- 
ing himself  up  a  little  as  a  boatswain's  mate  crossed 
the  open  deck  below  him. 

"There  is  a  kind  of  a  sameness  about  it,"  laughed 
Rexdale,  adjusting  a  pair  of  field-glasses.  "What 
sort  of  a  craft  is  that  yonder,  Tel? " 

"H'm — something  under  steam,  anyway.  Can 
you  make  her  out  through  the  glass? " 

137 


138  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Unless  I  'm  mistaken,  it 's  the  Zafiro"  said  the 
commander,  working  the  glasses  for  a  focus.  "Yes, 
it  's  the  despatch-boat,  bringing  Starr  back  from 
Tokio,  no  doubt." 

Ten  minutes  later  Bob  scrambled  up  over  the  rail, 
followed  by  a  young  man  in  civilian's  clothes. 

"Fred  Larkin!"  exclaimed  Dave.  "How  on 
earth  did  he  get  on  board  the  Zafiro  ?  ' ' 

As  soon  as  Midshipman  Bob  had  reported  him- 
self, the  war  correspondent  stepped  up  with  a  genial 
smile  and  shook  hands  warmly  with  the  officers  on 
the  bridge. 

"Fact  is,  I  'm  a  stowaway,  Dave,"  said  he. 
"That  gay  young  lieutenant  on  the  gunboat  would 
have  put  me  in  irons  if  it  had  n't  been  for  Bob  Starr. 
He  's  a  good  fellow  and  stood  by  me,  when  I  dis- 
closed myself  on  the  Zafiro  about  twenty  miles  out. " 

"Well,  what  am  I  to  do  with  you — that  's  the 
question?"  said  Rexdale,  laughing  in  spite  of  him- 
self at  the  reporter's  nonchalance.  "Strictly  speak- 
ing  " 

"Strictly  speaking,  I  've  no  business  on  one  of 
Uncle  Sam's  war-ships  without  a  permit  from  the 
Secretary  of  the  Navy,  or  the  admiral  of  the  fleet, 
at  least,"  said  Larkin,  with  utmost  good-humour. 
"Therefore,  we  won't  speak  strictly,  until  I  've  had 
time  to  look  about  a  little,  being  under  arrest, 
theoretically." 


BETWEEN   TWO  FIRES.  139 

"I  can't  very  well  drop  you  overboard,  old  fel- 
low," assented  Rexdale,  "there  being  a  shark  or 
two  around  who  would  gobble  up  even  a  newspaper 
man.  But  really " 

"Really,  I  '11  leave  you  before  night,  old  man," 
interrupted  Fred,  "so  don't  worry.  Now  you  and 
Lieutenant  Staples  just  sit  down  and  tell  a  fellow 
what  's  the  news  from  home — and  hereabouts." 

"But  how  did  you  manage  to  get  on  board  the 
Zafiro?  "  queried  Dave. 

"Ah,  don't  ask  me,  and  then  you  won't  know. 
The  movements  of  some  of  the  heavenly  bodies — 
comets,  for  instance,  and  reporters — can  only  be 
calculated  from  their  periodic  appearances,  my  son. 
Did  n't  you  learn  that  at  the  Academy?"  asked 
Fred,  as  the  party  of  officers  betook  themselves  to 
the  after  cabin.  "Let  it  suffice  your  lieutenant- 
commandership  that  I  really  did  go  on  board,  and 
at  the  proper  dramatic  moment  materialized  before 
the  astonished  crew.  I  had  a  little  more  sail  than 
I  bargained  for,  not  knowing  that  Mr.  Starr  had  to 
report  to  the  admiral  before  coming  here." 

"Then  Bob  did  n't  know " 

"Had  n't  the  ghost  of  an  idea  about  it,  upon  my 
word  of  honour,"  said  Larkin  hastily.  "There 
was  n't  a  more  thunderstruck  man  on  the  ship  than 
he,  when  I  stepped  on  deck.  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  his  face!  " 


I4O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

They  talked  of  Boston  friends  and  of  the  progress 
of  the  war,  concerning  which  Rexdale  could  afford 
his  friend  but  little  enlightenment.  "All  sorts  of 
reports  are  afloat,"  said  he.  "I  see  in  the  home 
papers — by  the  way,  there  's  a  bunch  of  them  at 
your  disposal — that  Chefoo  is  called  a  '  fake-factory, 
working  over-time.' 

"Not  bad,"  said  Larkin.  "But  so-called  fakes 
often  prove  to  be  facts,  after  all.  Has  any  attack 
yet  been  made  upon  Vladivostock? " 

"Apparently  not.  They  say  the  whole  sea- front, 
up  there,  is  a  network  of  submarine  mines.  Jap 
torpedo-boats  and  destroyers  are  patrolling  the  sea 
in  every  direction,  and  have  picked  up  one  or  two 
vessels  with  contraband  goods.  I  believe  there  was 
a  bombardment  of  the  port  early  in  the  month,  but 
it  amounted  to  nothing." 

"And  on  land?" 

"Well,  the  Russians  are  said  to  have  about  four 
hundred  thousand  men  in  Manchuria,  and  they  are 
arriving  by  the  railroad  at  the  rate  of  a  regiment  a 
day.  The  Japs  probably  have  at  least  half  that 
number  on  the  mainland.  They  are  swarming 
across  the  Korean  Peninsula  and  will  have  Port 
Arthur  isolated  before  long." 

"If  that  is  so,"  mused  Fred,  "I  must  move 
quickly." 

"Move— where?" 


BETWEEN   TWO  FIRES.  14! 

"I  'm  going  into  Port  Arthur,  my  boy." 

"Port  Arthur!  You  '11  never  get  there  alive — 
don't  try  it,  Larkin ! "  exclaimed  Staples  earnestly. 
"There  's  a  close  blockade,  and  you  '11  either  be  sunk 
in  the  bay  or  at  the  very  best  be  taken  prisoner 
if  you  reach  the  shore." 

"It  's  just  that  Very  best*  that  I  'm  reckoning 
upon,"  rejoined  the  reporter  coolly.  "I  wanted  to 
see  you  fellows  before  I  went  in,  so  you  can  allude 
to  my  whereabouts  if  I  don't  show  up  in  a  week  or 
two.  I  'm  an  American  citizen,  Dave,  and  don't 
you  forget  it.  You  may  be  sure  I  won't  let  Russian 
or  Jap,  whichever  one  captures  me,  forget  that 
little  fact.  There  's  no  danger  of  my  being  hung  as 
a  spy,  for  I  have  my  passport  and  credentials,  and 
the  worst  they  can  do,  when  they  've  made  their 
investigation,  is  to  fire  me  out.  All  this  is  suppos- 
ing I  actually  reach  one  '  firing-line  '  or  the  other. 
I  've  sat  round  in  Tokio  and  looked  at  lanterns  and 
spidery  letters  until  I  'm  tired  of  it.  The  Bulletin 
sent  me  out  here  to  get  news,  and  I  'm  not  going 
to  disappoint  the  old  man." 

The  day  passed  pleasantly  enough,  with  stories, 
talk  of  old  times  and  discussions  of  war  incidents. 
The  routine  duties  of  naval  life  filled  the  intervals 
in  the  conversation.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  of- 
ficers missed  their  jolly  companion,  and  enquired  for 
him?  but  no  one  knew  where  he  was.  As  evening 


142  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

came  on  they  realised  that  the  daring  young  re- 
porter had  kept  his  word  and  left  them,  it  was 
impossible  to  ascertain  when  or  by  what  means. 

"I  hope  he  won't  get  into  serious  trouble,"  said 
the  commander  anxiously. 

"Oh,  Larkin  can  take  care  of  himself,"  replied 
Liddon,  who  had  joined  in  the  useless  search.  "He 
has  been  through  one  war,  besides  innumerable 
scrapes  in  which  he  came  out  on  top.  That  's  why 
the  Bulletin  chose  him  for  this  service." 

"Evening  colours!  "  sang  one  bugle  after  another, 
on  the  war-ships;  and  all  hands  stood  with  bared 
heads  while  the  flags  fluttered  down  from  staff  and 
peak. 

Shortly  afterward  a  dull  boom  sounded  across  the 
waters  of  the  bay.  But  little  attention  was  paid  to 
it  by  the  men  on  the  Osprey,  such  disturbances  be- 
ing of  daily  occurrence.  That  shot,  however,  meant 
much  to  Fred  Larkin. 

About  half  an  hour  before  he  was  missed,  that 
afternoon,  he  had  slipped  over  the  ship's  side  into 
a  Chinese  sampan,  or  small  fishing-boat,  which  had 
come  alongside  to  dispose  of  its  fare  of  fish.  Fred 
tossed  a  coin  to  the  Chinaman  who  was  seated  in 
the  stern  and  pulled  a  broad  piece  of  matting  over 
himself  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  All  this  was 
done  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it.  If  any  of 
the  Osprey  s  jackies  saw  it,  he  said  nothing.  The 


BETWEEN   TWO  FIRES.  143 

sympathy  of  a  sailor  always  goes  with  a  runaway, 
whatever  the  reason  for  the  escape  may  be. 

The  owner  of  the  sampan,  understanding  from  a 
gesture  of  his  unexpected  passenger  that  the  latter 
wished  to  reach  the  shore  without  detection,  imme- 
diately cast  off  his  painter  and  worked  his  small 
craft  skilfully  and  swiftly  toward  the  docks  of  Che- 
foo.  As  soon  as  the  Osprey  was  hidden  by  another 
hull— that  of  a  British  man-of-war — Larkin  threw 
off  the  matting  gladly  enough  and  sat  up.  Presently 
he  caught  sight  of  a  large  junk,  just  hoisting  its 
sails.  It  was  heavily  loaded,  though  the  character 
of  its  freight  could  not  be  ascertained. 

Fred  pointed  to  the  junk,  and  the  oarsman  turned  his 
boat  toward  it.  A  moment  later  he  was  alongside. 

" Where  are  you  bound?"  he  called  out  to  the 
skipper. 

Fortunately  the  latter  could  understand  English. 

"Port  Arthur,"  he  replied,  but  not  loudly. 

Fred  held  up  a  coin.  The  man  nodded,  and  the  cor- 
respondent jumped  on  board,  taking  in  his  hand  the 
small  leathern  gripsack  he  had  brought  from  home. 

The  junk  proved  to  be  coal-laden,  and  the  captain 
(and  owner),  having  made  sure  that  no  Japanese 
vessels  were  in  sight,  was  about  to  make  a  dash  for 
Port  Arthur,  where  he  knew  he  would  obtain  high 
rates  for  his  cargo. 

It    soon    appeared   that   he   had  underrated  the 


144  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

watchfulness  of  the  blockaders,  for  within  less  than 
an  hour  from  leaving  port  the  men  on  the  junk  per- 
ceived a  torpedo-boat  destroyer  bearing  down  on 
them.  The  skipper  calculated  his  chances  of  safe 
return,  and  decided  to  "keep  all  on"  for  Port 
Arthur.  In  twenty  minutes  the  black  hull  of  the 
pursuer  could  be  plainly  made  out,  and  soon  after 
the  sound  of  a  gun  was  heard.  The  Chinamen 
working  the  junk  got  as  far  down  out  of  danger  as 
possible,  in  their  clumsy  craft,  and  Fred  followed 
suit.  He  had  no  desire  to  be  killed  or  maimed,  nor 
did  he  wish  to  be  captured  and  sent  back  to  Tokio. 

He  was  beginning  to  despair  of  the  successful 
issue  of  his  adventure,  when  a  shout  from  the  sailors 
called  his  attention  to  an  object  dead  ahead.  It 
was  a  column  of  dense  black  smoke  arising  from  the 
sea  in  the  direction  of  Port  Arthur. 

A  cheer  rang  out  from  the  Chinamen,  as  they 
perceived  the  smoke.  There  could  be  no  doubt 
that  it  arose  from  a  Russian  war-ship,  coming  out 
under  full  head  of  steam  to  meet  the  destroyer. 

Again  the  Japanese  gun  spoke,  and  this  time  the 
shot  struck  the  water  within  a  few  feet  of  the  junk. 

"They  've  got  our  range,"  said  Fred  to  himself 
grimly.  "Trust  the  Japs  for  scientific  work,  when 
it  comes  to  firing!  I  might  as  well  improve  the 
time,  though!"  And  drawing  his  note-book  from 
his  pocket  he  began  to  take  notes. 


BETWEEN  TWO  FIRES.  145 

The  junk  kept  on  its  course,  foaming  through 
the  water  under  pressure  of  her  great  sail  until  the 
lee  rail  almost  went  under.  Clouds  had  arisen  in 
the  west  and  it  was  nearly  dark.  A  search-light  on 
the  mainland  flared  out  suddenly,  and  a  broad  ray 
wavered  over  the  waves  until  it  picked  up  the  Jap- 
anese boat,  now  within  less  than  a  mile  of  the 
fleeing  junk.  A  deep  boom  sounded  ahead.  The 
Russian  had  at  last  spoken,  and  a  big  lump  of  steel 
swirled  through  the  gloom,  over  the  great  triangular 
sail.  The  Chinese  craft  was  between  two  fires. 
The  Japs  shrewdly  kept  her  in  line  with  themselves 
and  the  enemy,  so  that  the  latter  dared  not  fire  low. 
The  destroyer  fired  steadily  and  fiercely,  hulling  the 
junk  more  than  once.  It  was  evident  that  a  crisis 
was  at  hand. 

Crash !  A  solid  six-pound  shot  struck  the  stern 
of  the  labouring  White  Dragon,  knocking  her  rudder 
to  bits  and  killing  the  skipper,  who  had  remained 
bravely  at  the  helm.  The  junk  yawed  wildly  and 
fell  off  before  the  wind.  The  sailors  shrieked  and 
ran  to  and  fro,  calling  upon  their  gods  to  help  them. 

Another  shot,  and  the  mast  went  by  the  board. 
But  the  Russian  cruiser  was  now  close  at  hand  and 
engaged  the  Japanese  boat  savagely. 

Fred  was  watching  the  fight  and  looking  for  a 
chance  to  hail  the  Russian,  when  a  splinter  struck 
him  and  he  was  knocked  headlong  into  the  sea. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

WYNNIE   MAKES  A   BLUNDER. 

EDITH  and  Wynnie  found  Tokio  rather  lonely 
after  the  two  young  men  had  gone.  It  was 
the  loveliest  season  of  the  Japan  year;  the  trees 
were  pink  with  blossoms  and  every  street  and  square 
carpeted  with  fallen  petals.  Save  in  the  govern- 
ment offices  and  at  the  railway  stations  there  was 
little  outward  sign  of  war.  All  over  the  empire 
almond-eyed  girls  and  women  were  working  quietly 
for  the  soldiers,  arranging  bandages,  picking  lint, 
preparing  scrap-books  for  the  hospitals;  but  this 
made  no  stir.  The  rickshaw  coolies  pattered  along 
the  city  streets  and  groups  of  strangers  clustered 
about  the  shop-windows  as  in  the  time  of  peace. 
Now  and  then  the  tap  of  a  drum  was  heard,  and  a 
column  of  dark-faced  little  soldiers  passed  at  quick- 
step, their  faces  set  with  stern  resolve,  the  sunrise 
flag  floating  before  them.  For  a  moment  the 
crowds  turned  to  look,  then  returned  to  their 
money-making  or  sight-seeing  or  shopping. 

Seftor   Bellardo   became   more   attentive   to   the 
146 


WYNNIE  MAKES  A   BLUNDER.  147 

Blacks  on  the  very  day  when  the  midshipman  and 
correspondent  sailed  away  in  the  Zafiro.  He  at- 
tached himself  naively  to  their  party,  even  when 
they  went  to  the  War  Office  to  ask  for  the  latest 
news. 

Larkin  and  Bob  Starr,  in  pursuance  of  their  pur- 
pose of  showing  their  friends  everything  worth  see- 
ing in  Tokio,  had  introduced  the  American  girls,  as 
well  as  Colonel  Selborne,  to  the  high  government 
officials,  who  had  welcomed  the  strangers  with 
utmost  courtesy. 

About  a  week  after  the  departure  of  the  young 
men  the  Blacks  called  at  the  War  Office,  Bellardo 
following  meekly  in  their  train.  As  it  happened, 
no  one  was  in  the  room  but  the  orderlies,  who  gave 
the  party  to  understand  that  their  superiors  had  been 
called  out,  but  would  return  soon. 

"Oh,  we  can't  wait,"  said  Edith  impatiently. 

"But  it  's  our  last  visit,  really  a  call  of  ceremony, 
girls,"  protested  their  adopted  uncle,  as  he  called 
himself.  "It  will  hardly  be  courteous  to  leave 
without  seeing  one  or  both  of  these  gentlemen  who 
have  been  so  polite  to  us." 

"I  '11  write  a  line  and  leave  it  for  them,"  said 
Wynnie  impulsively.  "We  've  lots  to  do,  Uncle, 
and  we  can't  waste  time,  you  know,  in  our  last  day 
in  Tokio.  They  may  not  come  back  for  hours." 

She  took  the  chair  of  one  of  the  officials,  looked 


148  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

about  for  pen  and  ink,  and  began  writing  hurriedly 
on  a  blank  sheet  which  lay  on  the  top  of  a  pile  of 
documents.  The  orderlies  gazed  in  bewilderment  at 
the  pretty  vision  of  the  girl  in  a  picture  hat,  occupy- 
ing the  chair  of  their  venerated  head  of  department. 

Before  Wynnie  could  finish  her  note,  however, 
the  owner  of  the  chair  appeared,  with  profuse  apolo- 
gies for  his  delay.  Wynnie  crumpled  up  the  slip  of 
paper  upon  which  she  was  writing,  and  dropped  it 
into  the  waste-basket  as  she  rose  to  pay  her  respects 
to  the  war  official.  The  rest  of  the  party  advanced 
and  joined  in  the  mutual  farewells  and  regrets.  As 
they  stood  by  the  desk,  Edith  was  surprised  to  see 
the  Spaniard  stoop,  take  Wynnie's  half-written  note 
from  the  basket,  and  bestow  it  in  an  inner  pocket. 
"How  sentimental !  "  she  thought,  rather  contempt- 
uously. She  started  to  speak  to  her  sister  about 
it,  on  the  way  home,  but  something  in  the  street 
took  her  attention,  and  she  forgot  all  about  it. 

The  Blacks  had  expected  to  leave  next  morning 
for  Yokohama,  where  they  were  to  go  on  board  a 
steamer  for  Hawaii  and  San  Francisco.  In  the  dis- 
turbed state  of  affairs  on  the  Chinese  coast,  Colonel 
Selborne  had  concluded  not  to  risk  inconvenience 
or  danger,  and  to  give  up  the  rest  of  the  trip.  Early 
in  July  the  whole  party  would  be  at  home  once 
more.  But  their  plans  were  interrupted  by  an  un- 
foreseen and  astounding  incident.  It  was  no  less 


WYNNIE  MAKES  A   BLUNDER.  149 

than  the  detention  of  all  four  by  the  Japanese 
Government. 

They  had  hardly  reached  the  hotel,  on  their  re- 
turn from  the  War  Office,  when  a  dapper  little 
gentleman  stepped  up  to  the  Colonel  and  said  a  few 
words  in  a  low  tone. 

' '  What ! ' '  exclaimed  the  American.  * '  Impossible. 
We  start  for  home  to-morrow  morning.  Edith," 
he  added,  turning  to  his  young  guests,  who  were 
just  behind  with  Sefior  Bellardo,  "this  man  says  we 
are  not  to  leave  the  hotel  till  further  notice.  Special 
orders  from  the  War  Office!  " 

"Why,  what  can  be  the  reason?  What  has 
happened? " 

The  Japanese  officer  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
murmured  an  apology.  "A  document  of  great 
value  has  been  lost,"  he  said.  "It  is  necessary  to 
detain  every  one  who  has  visited  the  office  during 
the  afternoon.  It  is  mere  form.  Honourably  do 
not  be  annoyed — a  thousand  regrets  for  your  in- 
convenience! " 

Colonel  Selborne  understood  Japanese  methods 
well  enough  to  know  there  was  a  hand  of  iron  under 
the  velvet  glove.  He  submitted  with  what  grace  he 
could  muster. 

"Search  our  rooms,"  he  said.  "It  is  absurd  to 
suppose " 

"Ah,"  interrupted  the  emissary  from   the  War 


150  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Office  eagerly,  "we  suppose  nothing.  It  is  mere 
form.  To-night,  to-morrow,  next  day,  you  will 
surely  be  at  liberty  to  depart.  If  you  are  put  to 
extra  expense  by  remaining  longer  than  you  had 
planned  the  Government  will  repay  all." 

At  the  Colonel's  urgent  request  the  rooms  were 
searched,  and  of  course  nothing  was  found  The 
little  man  withdrew,  walking  backward  and  apolo- 
gising over  and  over;  but  he  did  not  leave  the  hotel. 
He  sent  a  message  to  the  Office  and  informed  the 
Blacks  that  nothing  further  could  be  done  until  the 
next  day. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the  recol- 
lection of  Wynnie's  half-written  note  flashed  across 
Edith's  mind.  She  almost  flew  to  her  uncle's  door 
and  rapped.  The  good  man  had  not  retired;  he 
was  too  much  annoyed  and  troubled  to  sleep. 

"Uncle,  Uncle,  I  've  something  important  to  tell 
you.  It  may  be  a  clue!"  And  she  described 
Wynnie's  act  of  throwing  away  the  piece  of  paper 
and  its  subsequent  recovery  by  the  Spaniard. 

"I  thought  he  just  wanted  a  bit  of  Wyn.'s  writ- 
ing," she  said,  her  lip  curling  a  little.  "It  may  be 
there  was  something  deeper  in  it." 

"But  the  paper  was  perfectly  blank;  there  was 
nothing  on  it  but  two  or  three  lines  I  had  written 
when  General  Kafuro  came  in,"  said  Wynnie,  who 
had  joined  them. 


WYNNIE  MAKES  A   BLUNDER.  151 

"Did  you  look  on  the  other  side  of  the  sheet?" 
demanded  Colonel  Selborne. 

"Not  once!  And  it  may  have  been  the  very 
document  they  miss!  Oh,  what  a  foolish,  foolish 
girl  I  was !  I  saw  the  paper  lying  there  on  a  heap 
of  other  sheets,  and  supposed  —  oh,  the  General 
must  have  turned  it  over  so  that  no  one  would  see 
it  when  he  was  called  out,  expecting  to  return  in  a 
minute !  That  was  it,  I  know  it  was — and  it  's  all 
my  fault!"  Wynnie  hid  her  face  on  her  uncle's 
shoulder. 

"There,  there,  dear,  it  was  a  natural  enough  mis- 
take, and  you  really  meant  to  do  a  kind  and 
courteous  thing  in  writing  our  regrets,"  said  the 
Colonel,  patting  the  brown  head. 

"Do  you  know  what  the  missing  paper  was,  sir?  " 
asked  Edith. 

"It  was  a  sketch  of  a  portion  of  the  fortifications 
at  Sasebo,  with  specifications  below — all  in  very  fine 
handwriting  and  pale  ink.  I  must  see  the  officials 
at  once,"  added  Colonel  Selborne,  looking  for  his 
hat. 

"Why  not  hunt  up  Sefior  Bellardo  first?"  sug- 
gested Edith  eagerly.  "Now  I  think  of  it,  he  must 
have  left  us  just  as  you  were  first  notified,  and  he 
did  n't  come  near  us  the  whole  evening." 

"I  noticed  that,"  said  Wynnie,"  and  was  glad  of 
it.  I  can't  bear  him,  and  never  could." 


152  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Do  you  remember  how  Mr.  Larkin  looked  at 
him?" 

"Yes,  and  he  said " 

"I  can't  stop,  my  dears,"  broke  in  the  Colonel. 
"I  '11  enquire  for  the  Spaniard  at  once  and  find  him 
if  he  is  in  the  hotel.  Do  you  know  where  his  lodg- 
ings are  in  Tokio?  " 

Neither  of  them  knew.  Singularly  enough,  the 
man  had  never  mentioned  his  lodging-place.  He 
always  dined  at  the  hotel. 

Colonel  Selborne  found  the  Japanese  official  on 
the  verandah,  and  at  once  took  him  into  his  confi- 
dence. They  made  enquiries  and  looked  into  every 
public  room  in  the  hotel.  Bellardo  was  not  there. 

"Leave  the  matter  now  with  me,"  said  the  secret- 
service  man  quietly.  "My  men  are  near,  and  I  will 
continue  the  search.  In  the  morning  you  shall 
know  the  result,  and  I  hope  to  be  able  to  relieve 
you  from  further  surveillance." 

Early  the  next  morning  the  report  was  made  by 
the  chagrined  but  ever-polite  officer.  The  bird  had 
flown.  Seftor  Bellardo 's  lodgings  were  known — as 
were  those  of  every  stranger  in  the  city — to  the 
police.  They  were  visited  before  midnight,  and 
found  empty.  The  police  in  every  seaport  were 
notified  by  telephone  and  ordered  to  arrest  a  tall, 
we,ll-dressed  man,  claiming  to  be  a  Spaniard,  with 
dark  complexion  and  black  beard  and  moustache. 


WYNNIE  MAKES  A   BLUNDER.  153 

His  clothes  were  described,  as  well  as  a  certain 
shifty  look  in  his  eyes.  His  bearing  was  that  of  one 
who  had  been  trained  in  a  military  or  naval  school. 

Colonel  Selborne  and  his  party  made  affidavits 
before  the  American  consul,  telling  everything  they 
knew  about  the  matter.  As  General  Kafuro  re- 
membered leaving  the  paper  on  the  very  pile  from 
which  Wynnie  had  taken  her  sheet,  there  seemed  to 
be  no  doubt  that  Edith's  story  accounted  for  the 
theft.  Other  papers  of  value  had  been  missed  from 
time  to  time  since  the  war  broke  out,  and  it  was  be- 
lieved at  the  Office  that  the  so-called  Spaniard  was 
a  dangerous  spy  in  the  pay  of  the  Russians. 

General  Kafuro  congratulated  Ethelwyn  on  hav- 
ing forced  the  man's  hand,  and,  at  the  request  of  the 
consul,  declared  the  American  party  free  to  leave 
Tokio  whenever  they  wished. 

Colonel  Selborne  lost  no  time  in  availing  himself 
of  the  permission  and,  with  his  wife  and  the  two 
young  ladies,  sailed  from  Yokohama  two  days  later. 

On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  when  the  City 
of  Pekin  was  heading  eastward  with  the  Americans 
on  board,  a  small  sailboat  put  out  from  a  village  on 
the  west  coast  of  the  island.  Besides  the  sailors  it 
had  one  passenger — a  gentleman  with  smooth  face, 
light  complexion,  and  red  hair.  The  boatmen  had 
agreed,  for  a  large  sum,  to  land  him  at  the  nearest 
point  in  Korea,  unless  they  should  previously  fall  in 


154  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

with  a  Russian  war-ship.  The  latter  contingency 
actually  came  to  pass,  as  the  boat  was  driven  north- 
ward by  a  southerly  storm,  and  picked  up  by  one 
of  the  Vladivostock  squadron,  then  cruising  for 
prizes. 

From  Vladivostock,  where  he  was  safely  landed 
on  the  following  day,  the  red-haired  gentleman  pro- 
ceeded by  rail  to  Harbin  Junction,  and  then  south- 
ward to  Port  Arthur,  now  nearly  cut  off  by 
Nogi's  troops.  Trains,  however,  were  still  run- 
ning regularly  between  the  beleaguered  port  and 
Moukden. 

Strangely  enough,  the  hair  of  the  mysterious 
gentleman  was  now  rapidly  turning  dark.  By  the 
time  he  reached  Port  Arthur,  it  was  quite  black.  A 
stubbly  beard  and  moustache,  too,  began  to  show 
themselves  on  his  sallow  face.  The  man  spoke 
Russian  brokenly,  and  used  English  when  he  could. 
Never  a  Spanish  word  came  from  his  lips,  and  the 
Barcelona  estates  proved  veritable  castles  in  Spain, 
fading  from  his  memory. 

As  the  man  passed  up  the  street  of  Port  Arthur, 
under  escort  of  a  corporal's  guard,  he  laid  his  hand 
triumphantly  on  his  breast.  In  an  inner  pocket, 
beneath  it,  reposed  a  sheet  of  rice  paper,  on  one 
side  of  which  were  scrawled  a  few  lines,  in  a  girl- 
ish handwriting.  On  the  other  were  drawings  of 
moats,  counterscarps,  and  a  medley  of  fortifications, 


WYNNIE  MAKES  A   BLUNDER.  155 

followed    by    vertical    lines    of    delicate    Japanese 
characters. 

"Take  me  at  once  to  General  Stoessel's  head- 
quarters," said  the  sallow-faced  man.  "I  have  im- 
portant information  for  him.  Here  is  my  pass  from 
the  War  Office  at  St.  Petersburg." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  ATTACK   OF   THE  " OCTOPUS". 

SINCE  the  Stone  Age,  when  long-haired  men, 
half  brutes,  fought  with  battle-clubs  made  by 
lashing  a  rudely  shaped  lump  of  stone  in  the  cleft 
end  of  a  club,  and  with  arrows  and  javelins  tipped 
with  hammered  flint,  through  all  the  successive 
generations  of  fighters,  human  ingenuity  has  been 
exercised  to  its  utmost  to  devise  new  implements  of 
warfare,  and  new  defences  to  protect  against  them. 

A  long  stride  was  taken  when  the  first  elaborately 
carved,  bell-mouthed  cannon  roared  at  Cressy  and 
Poictiers ;  another  when  iron  balls  were  substituted 
for  stone,  and  still  a  third  when  the  idea  flashed 
upon  some  belligerent  inventor  to  make  his  iron 
shot  hollow  and  transform  them  into  explosive 
shells  and  death-dealing  shrapnel. 

From  shells  to  torpedoes  was  an  easy  transition, 
and  the  torpedo-boat  became  necessary,  duly  fol- 
lowed by  the  torpedo-boat  destroyer.  At  the  same 
time  the  armour  of  the  largest  fighting  ships  was 
increased  in  thickness  from  two  or  three  inches  to  a 

156 


THE  ATTACK  OF   THE   "OCTOPUS".          1 57 

foot,  over  the  vital  parts  of  the  battle-ship  and 
cruiser,  the  primary  batteries  of  which  now  included 
huge  rifled  guns  throwing  a  steel  projectile  of  well- 
nigh  half  a  ton's  weight. 

The  torpedo  is  a  terrible  but  uncertain  weapon. 
The  modern  search-light  makes  daylight  of  the 
darkest  night,  and  renders  the  approach  of  a 
torpedo-boat  within  striking  distance  exceedingly 
difficult.  If  detected,  the  boat  is  doomed,  for  a 
concentration  of  fire  from  the  larger  ship  beats  the 
necessarily  small  assailant  to  death  in  a  moment. 
Moreover  it  is  by  no  means  sure  that  the  torpedo 
will  do  its  work  when  launched  at  the  enemy,  even 
if  it  succeeds  in  piercing  the  wire  net  that  is  sus- 
pended to  entangle  it  at  a  safe  distance  from  the 
hull  of  the  vessel  attacked. 

Summing  up  all  the  obstacles  to  successful  tor- 
pedo attack,  it  may  be  reckoned  that  only  one  in 
twelve  reaches  its  mark,  explodes,  and  accomplishes 
its  purpose. 

It  remained  for  the  twentieth  century  to  produce 
a  terrible  fighting-machine — often  foretold  but  never 
perfected  until  the  Russo  -  Japanese  war  —  which 
should  approach  the  enemy  unseen,  discharge  its 
torpedo  with  careful  aim  at  the  most  vulnerable 
part  of  its  huge  adversary,  and,  while  the  latter  was 
floating  in  fancied  security  on  the  open  sea,  strike  a 
blow  which  should  be  instantly  fatal.  Such  is  the 


158  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

marvellous  submarine  torpedo-boat  of  this  day  and 
generation. 

The  idea  of  a  boat  that  shall  move  under  water 
and  discharge  its  missile  at  a  hostile  ship  is  by  no 
means  a  new  one.  In  1776  a  young  man  named 
David  Bushnell,  of  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  con- 
structed a  submarine  boat  resembling  two  "turtle- 
backs  "  screwed  together.  She  was  so  small  that 
only  one  man  could  occupy  her.  Air  was  supplied 
to  last  half  an  hour.  The  "crew,"  who  was  ex- 
pected to  work  by  hand  the  propelling  screw,  was 
also  supposed  to  be  able  to  pump  in  and  out  water 
ballast  to  enable  her  to  descend  to  the  desired 
depth,  to  maintain  the  craft  on  an  even  keel  when 
submerged,  and  to  detach  two  hundred  pounds  of 
ballast  weights  in  order  to  rise  again  to  the  surface. 
An  explosive  mine  containing  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  of  gunpowder  was  to  be  towed  along- 
side until  the  bottom  of  the  enemy's  ship  was 
reached,  when,  the  mine  having  been  fastened  to 
the  hull,  a  clock-work  arrangement,  set  by  the 
operator,  would  explode  the  charge.  Nothing 
practical  resulted  from  the  young  Yale  man's 
scheme,  but  it  is  evident  that  his  boat  was  the 
original  model  for  every  submarine  torpedo-boat 
which  has  since  been  invented. 

In  1800  Robert  Fulton,  turning  his  attention  from 
steam  engines  for  a  while,  modelled  a  boat  which 


THE  ATTACK  OF   THE   "OCTOPUS".          159 

was  a  considerable  improvement  upon  Bushnell's, 
but,  like  the  latter,  failed  in  practical  use. 

During  our  Civil  War  several  essays  were  made  at 
submarine  warfare,  the  Confederates  taking  the 
initiative.  One  of  these  submarines  actually  blew 
up  a  Union  man-of-war,  but  was  itself  demolished, 
with  its  crew  of  nine  men.  Every  great  navy  in  the 
world  now  reckons  a  number  of  submarines  among 
its  available  forces. 

One  of  the  most  dangerous  and  powerful  of  these 
deadly  destroyers  at  the  time  of  the  breaking  out  of 
the  Japanese  war  was  the  Octopus,  launched  at  night, 
with  great  secrecy,  near  the  naval  station  of  Sasebo. 
Her  length  was  eighty  feet,  diameter  eleven  feet, 
displacement  (when  submerged)  one  hundred  and 
thirty-nine  tons.  When  she  was  running  light,  or 
"awash,"  the  twin-screws,  operated  by  triple  ex- 
pansion engines  worked  by  steam,  gave  a  speed  of 
fifteen  knots,  with  a  minimum  endurance,  at  this 
speed,  of  twelve  hours. 

To  drive  the  craft  when  submerged  a  battery  of 
storage  cells  supplied  an  electric  current  to  operate 
motors  sufficient  to  give  a  speed  of  eight  knots  for 
at  least  six  hours.  Her  armament  consisted  of  five 
automobile  torpedoes  and  two  expulsion  tubes, 
which  opened  through  her  black  prow  like  the 
nostrils  of  some  hideous  sea-monster.  She  was 
able  to  sink  to  a  depth  of  twenty  feet  below  the 


l6o  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

surface  within  one  minute  after  the  order  to  dive 
was  given.  When  she  was  submerged  three  feet  the 
pilot  obtained  a  view  over  the  water  by  means  of  a 
camera  lucida  in  a  tube  that  projected  above  the 
surface. 

When  Jules  Verne  wrote  Twenty  Thousand 
Leagues  under  the  Sea,  in  1873,  his  Nautilus  was 
deemed  by  the  reader  untaught  in  naval  construc- 
tive history  a  wild  creation  of  the  author's  fancy, 
like  his  passenger-car  shot  to  the  moon  from  an 
enormous  cannon.  To-day  there  is  not  a  naval 
commander  who  would  not  look  grave  and  con- 
sider an  immediate  withdrawal  of  his  ship  when 
told  an  enemy's  submarine  was  cruising  in  his 
neighbourhood. 

In  the  face  of  open  danger,  visible  to  eye  and  ear, 
no  officer  of  the  navy  blenches.  The  submarine  is 
out  of  sight.  It  may  be  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
the  ship  when  the  report  is  brought.  A  man  who 
will  stand  up  against  a  wild  beast  or  a  band  of 
savages  without  a  tremor  will  turn  white  and  shriek 
with  terror  if,  when  he  is  in  the  water,  the  cry  of 
"Shark !  "  is  raised.  The  shark  betrays  its  presence 
by  its  black  dorsal  fin  above  the  surface  of  the  sea. 
When  the  fin  disappears  the  danger  increases,  be- 
comes terrible;  the  fear  of  the  swimmer  in  the 
vicinity  of  that  black,  unseen  peril  overmasters  him. 

The  submarine  sinks,  like  the  shark,  to  attack. 


THE  ATTACK  OF   THE   "OCTOPUS".          l6l 

Its  gleaming  back,  surmounted  by  the  small,  round 
conning  tower,  disappears  amid  a  swirl  of  foam.  A 
single  staff  at  the  stern  betrays  its  presence  for  a 
moment ;  then  that,  too,  glides  beneath  the  surface. 
Not  a  man  on  the'  battle-ship  but  shudders  at  the 
thought  of  that  hidden  monster  under  the  waves, 
driven  by  the  skill  and  hatred  of  the  human  brain. 

Only  tried  and  absolutely  reliable  men  are  chosen 
for  the  crew  of  the  submarine.  They  must  be  ready 
to  endure  extreme  discomfort  and  hardship  and 
must  hold  their  lives  in  their  hands.  A  well-aimed 
shot  from  a  war-ship,  or  a  defect  in  the  delicate  ma- 
chinery of  the  boat,  and  all  is  over.  A  submarine 
never  is  wrecked;  it  sinks,  with  all  on  board;  it  is 
obliterated. 

The  Japanese  have  been  among  the  first  to  realise 
the  terrible  effectiveness  of  this  formidable  engine 
of  war.  No  one  outside  a  handful  of  men  near  the 
Mikado's  throne  knows  how  many  submarine  tor- 
pedo-boats are  included  in  the  Japanese  navy,  nor 
where  they  are  stationed.  Japanese  naval  officers 
and  men  form  an  ideal  body  from  which  the  crews 
of  these  boats  are  to  be  chosen.  In  conflict  with 
the  enemy,  whether  on  land  or  at  sea,  they  reckon 
their  lives  as  nothing.  They  seek  eagerly  for  a 
glorious  death  at  the  hands  of  the  foe,  and  when 
that  is  denied  them  and  defeat  is  inevitable  they 
prefer  to  die  by  their  own  weapons,  or  by  leaping 


1 62  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

into  the  sea,  rather  than  prolong  what  would  be  to 
them  a  life  of  disgrace. 

Oto  Owari  was  appointed,  on  the  nth  of  April 
in  this  eventful  year,  to  the  command  of  the  sub- 
marine Octopus,  then  docked,  under  a  concealing 
roof,  at  Sasebo.  Three  nights  later  he  went  on 
board  with  a  picked  crew  at  midnight,  and  the 
Octopus,  first  gliding  out  of  the  dock,  and  gathering 
speed  until  she  reached  open  water,  suddenly  stopped 
her  engines  and  began  to  sink,  inch  by  inch.  In 
one  minute  a  dark  spot  on  the  sea,  and  a  patch  of 
foam,  indicated  the  top  of  her  conning  tower;  and 
a  moment  later  she  was  out  of  sight.  In  the  act  of 
sinking,  her  prow  was  toward  the  west. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  April  I3th,  the  Japanese 
fleet  made  a  demonstration  in  the  direction  of  Port 
Arthur.  Always  ready  to  accept  a  challenge  while 
there  was  a  shot  in  the  locker,  the  Russians  steamed 
out  to  meet  them.  There  was  but  a  brief  exchange 
of  battle  courtesies.  The  Port  Arthur  ships  were 
far  out-numbered  and  out-metalled,  and  Admiral 
Makaroff,  on  the  Petropavlovsk,  signalled  for  his 
squadron  to  retire. 

The  Petropavlovsk  was  a  first-class  battle-ship  of 
about  11,000  tons,  with  heavy  armament  of  twelve- 
inch  guns  and  secondary  batteries.  She  had  on 
board  the  admiral,  the  regular  crew  of  650  men,  the 
Grand  Duke  Cyril,  and,  as  a  special  guest,  the 


THE  ATTACK  OF  THE   "OCTOPUS".          163 

famous  painter  Verestchagin.  Makaroff,  with  sev- 
eral officers  of  high  rank,  having  satisfied  them- 
selves that  the  ship  was  in  no  immediate  danger, 
proceeding  as  she  now  was  under  good  headway, 
toward  her  home  port,  with  the  Japanese  fleet  hull 
down  in  the  offing,  went  below  to  breakfast.  The 
Grand  Duke  and  the  great  artist  remained  on  the 
bridge  with  the  commander  of  the  flagship  and  its 
lieutenant.  They  scanned  through  their  glasses 
the  far-off  pursuers,  and  the  frowning  forts  on 
Golden  Hill,  and  congratulated  each  other  on  the 
escape  of  the  Russian  squadron  from  the  danger  of 
annihilation  by  an  immensely  superior  force.  Not 
a  man  of  them  guessed  the  near  presence  of  a  peril, 
unseen  beneath  those  waves,  dimpling  in  the  morn- 
ing sunlight,  more  terrible  than  the  whole  array  of 
Japanese  battle-ships  on  the  horizon.  Verestchagin, 
then  the  greatest  living  painter  of  death  on  the 
battle-field,  knew  not  that  Death  was  at  that  mo- 
ment gliding  toward  him ;  that  he  was  taking  his 
last  look  at  the  drifting  clouds,  the  rippling  sea,  the 
blue  hills  of  Manchuria.  The  Petropavlovsk  sped 
onward,  but  faster,  beneath  the  waves,  sped  the 
Octopus,  guided  by  the  fierce  eyes,  the  strong  hand, 
the  glowing  heart  and  brain  of  the  small  brown  man 
erstwhile  cabin  steward  of  the  Osprey. 

Suddenly  the  great  battle-ship  quivered  from  stem 
to  stern,  as  if  she  had  struck  upon  a  rock.     The  sea 


164  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

rose  on  the  starboard  side  in  a  tremendous  wave, 
and  a  roar  like  a  broadside  of  a  frigate  filled  the  air, 
followed  by  a  rattling,  crashing  discharge  from  the 
magazines.  A  huge  gap  appeared  in  the  hull  of  the 
ship.  A  cataract  of  water  poured  in,  and  slowly 
turning  upon  her  side,  with  one  great,  hissing  gasp 
the  Petropavlovsk  sank. 

The  other  ships  of  the  squadron  hastened  to  the 
spot,  and  almost  before  the  fighting-tops  of  the 
battle-ship  disappeared  their  boats  were  foaming 
across  the  water  to  pick  up  the  survivors  from  the 
ill-fated  vessel.  The  Grand  Duke  was  saved,  as 
were  the  lieutenant,  two  other  officers,  and  about 
fifty  sailors.  Every  other  man  went  to  the  bottom. 
Never  again  would  the  guns  of  Russia  boom  out 
their  noisy  salute  to  the  gallant  admiral;  and 
Verestchagin  had  made  his  last  great  study  of 
Death. 


THE  SINKING  OF  THE  PETROPAVLOVSK. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

UNDER  THE   RED   CROSS. 

WHEN  Fred  Larkin  regained  consciousness, 
after  being  hurled  into  the  sea,  he  found 
himself  lying  on  a  large  table  covered  with  a  white 
cloth.  Around  him  stood  a  number  of  big,  burly 
men  with  black  beards  and  stern  but  not  unkindly 
faces.  He  knew  at  once  that  they  must  be  Rus- 
sians, and  (having  applied  himself  vigorously  to  the 
study  of  their  language  on  his  outward  voyage  from 
San  Francisco)  addressed  himself  to  the  most  amia- 
ble-looking of  the  lot. 

"Where  am  I?"  he  asked,  in  very  poor  Russian. 

The  man  did  not  reply,  but  said,  "Do  you  speak 
French?" 

"Out/"  replied  Larkin,  glad  to  know  that  he 
could  converse  in  a  tongue  much  more  familiar  to 
him  than  the  former.  He  repeated  his  question, 
adding,  as  a  twinge  of  pain  shot  through  his  shoul- 
der, "I  am  hurt." 

"Yes,"  said  the  other;  "you  were  struck  by  a 
splinter.  We  picked  you  up  from  the  water  and 
brought  you  here.  You  are  English?" 

165 


1 66  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"American.     Am  I  in  Port  Arthur,  then?" 

"You  are  near  Port  Arthur,  at  Laouwei.  What 
were  you  doing  in  the  Chinese  junk  which  was  sunk 
by  the  Japanese?"  demanded  the  Russian  more 
sternly. 

"I  am  a  newspaper  correspondent,"  said  Fred 
boldly,  though  in  a  weak  voice.  His  wound  pained 
him  more  and  more,  and  he  rightly  guessed  that  the 
collar-bone  was  fractured.  "I  have  been  in  Tokio, 
and  could  not  reach  the  front,  so  I  crossed  over  to 
your  side,  where,  they  tell  me,  the  press  receives 
more  consideration.  My  credentials  are  in  my  in- 
side pocket." 

The  officer — for  such  Fred  deemed  him  to  be — 
smiled  grimly,  but  made  no  comment  upon  this 
speech. 

"You  must  be  taken  to  the  hospital  in  the  city, 
where  they  will  set  your  broken  bone,"  he  said. 
"Meanwhile  you  will  pardon  the  discourtesy  of 
covering  your  face." 

A  word  of  command  was  given,  and  a  light  cloth 
laid  over  the  reporter's  head.  He  was  then  placed 
gently  upon  a  stretcher  and  carried  on  board  some 
kind  of  a  vessel.  Before  long  Fred  heard  the 
clamour  of  a  wharf  crowd;  then  felt  himself  lifted 
again  and  borne  through  the  streets  of  a  city  which 
he  knew  must  be  Port  Arthur,  up  a  rather  steep 
hill,  to  a  building  where  he  was  deposited  on  a  cot 


UNDER    THE  RED   CROSS.  l6/ 

beside  two  other  men.  The  cloth  was  now  re- 
moved, and  the  first  object  which  met  his  eye  was 
the  kind,  good  face  of  a  young  woman,  on  whose 
arm  was  bound  a  strip  bearing  a  red  cross.  With  a 
feeling  that  he  was  in  a  safe  refuge  he  meekly  took 
the  medicine  held  to  his  lips  and  fell  into  a  deep 
sleep. 

Between  his  sleeping  and  waking,  the  collar-bone 
was  set  that  afternoon.  Fred  only  remembered  a 
confused  sense  of  gentle  hands  and  rough  voices, 
of  the  smell  of  chloroform,  of  a  general  battered  and 
"want-to-cry"  feeling;  and,  at  last,  of  utter  aban- 
donment of  restfulness.  The  next  morning  he  was 
weak  and  a  little  feverish,  but  he  felt  like  a  new 
man.  In  three  weeks,  the  surgeon  told  him,  he 
would  be  about  again.  Fred  made  use  of  his  first 
returning  strength  to  cable  to  the  Bulletin  and  ask 
for  instructions.  The  censor  passed  the  message 
without  cutting.  The  reply  was  terse:  "Remain 
Russian  army." 

The  time  passed  pretty  heavily  with  the  disabled 
correspondent,  during  his  convalescence  at  the  hos- 
pital. From  the  window  of  his  room  he  could  look 
down  on  the  harbour  and  see  the  Russian  war-ships. 
His  two  room-mates,  Japanese  officers  from  one  of 
the  stone-laden  hulks  sunk  in  a  vain  attempt  to 
block  the  channel  in  Hobson  fashion,  had  been  sent 
to  prison  soon  after  his  arrival. 


1 68  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

From  time  to  time  he  obtained  scraps  of  informa- 
tion from  other  patients,  from  the  hospital  surgeon- 
staff,  and  from  his  gentle  little  nurse,  Marie 
Kopofsky,  a  native  of  Moscow.  Not  "at  the 
Czar's  command,"  but  of  her  own  free  will,  she  had 
volunteered,  as  had  hundreds  of  Japanese  women 
on  their  side  of  the  sea,  to  nurse  the  sick  and 
wounded  at  the  front,  under  the  banner  of  the  Red 
Cross. 

On  the  day  before  he  left  the  hospital  Fred  was 
walking  idly  through  the  corridors  to  his  room, 
when  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  an  unpleasantly 
familiar  voice.  It  recalled  the  prison  at  Santiago, 
where  he  had  been  confined  at  the  close  of  his  dar- 
ing scouting  expedition  during  the  Spanish  War. 
It  recalled,  too,  strangely  enough,  the  bright  days 
he  had  recently  passed  at  Tokio.  Suddenly  a  light 
broke  upon  his  mind. 

"Stevens!"  he  exclaimed  under  his  breath. 
"That  mean  traitor  who  tried  to  bribe  me  to  betray 
the  secrets  of  the  United  States  navy  to  the  Spanish 
— he  and  Seftor  Bellardo  are  the  same  man !  It  was 
the  beard  and  the  dark  complexion  that  fooled  me! 
What  tricks  is  he  up  to  now,  I  wonder?  "  * 

*  Readers  of  Cleared  for  Action  will  remember  the  previous  career 
of  the  renegade  Stevens.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy 
at  Annapolis,  and  subsequently  turned  against  his  country.  In  an 
attempt  to  betray  the  Spaniards  he  was  detected,  arrested,  and  thrown 
into  prison  at  Santiago  just  before  the  fall  of  that  city. 


UNDER    THE  RED   CROSS.  169 

Fred  turned  away  abruptly,  before  Stevens  caught 
sight  of  him,  and  entering  his  private  room  closed 
the  door. 

"I  may  not  be  here  long,"  he  muttered,  "but 
while  I  am  I  will  keep  an  eye  on  that  fellow." 

The  next  day  he  received  his  discharge  from  the 
hospital,  and  obtained  lodgings  at  a  respectable 
hotel  near  by.  As  soon  as  possible  he  presented 
his  credentials  to  General  Stoessel,  and  received  a 
newspaper  pass,  with  the  instructions  of  the  Russian 
government  governing  war  correspondents  at  the 
front.  They  were,  in  brief,  as  follows: 

Rule  I.  Correspondents  must  not  interfere  in  any 
way  with  the  preparations  for  war,  or  the  plans  of 
the  staff,  or  divulge  military  secrets  of  advantage  to 
the  enemy,  such  as  actions  in  which  forts  are 
damaged  or  guns  lost. 

II.  No  criticism  of  members  of  the  General  Staff, 
Corps,  or  Division  Staff.     The  report  of  an  engage- 
ment must  be  limited  to  a  simple  statement  of  fact. 

III.  Correspondents  must  not  transmit  uncon- 
firmed information  about   the  enemy,  such  as  ru- 
mours of  victory,  or  threatening  movements,  which 
may  cause  public  uneasiness  in  Russia. 

IV.  All  correspondents  without   credentials  will 
be  turned  back.     Those  given   permission   to  join 
the  forces   are   in    honour   bound    to    observe   the 
regulations,  with  the  penalty  of  expulsion  without 


170  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

warning  for  any  violation.  They  can  go  anywhere  in 
the  field,  and  are  barred  only  from  the  Russian  fleet. 

"H'm,"  said  Fred,  as  he  read  over  the  printed 
rules,  "fair  enough,  though  'a  simple  statement  of 
fact '  is  hard  lines  on  a  flowery  writer.  If  my 
friends  the  Japs  had  been  as  liberal,  I  should  n't 
have  got  into  Port  Arthur  in  a  hurry." 

He  soon  made  the  acquaintance  of  two  or  three 
other  newspaper  men  from  European  capitals,  and 
managed  to  get  a  few  good  cables  through  the 
censor  without  their  being  mangled  beyond  recog- 
nition. He  soon  discovered  Stevens's  lodgings, 
where  he  learned  that  the  traitor  had  the  entree  of 
Staff  headquarters,  and  was  known  as  Henry  Burley, 
of  Liverpool.  For  the  present  Fred  could  see  no 
spoke  to  put  in  his  wheel,  for  the  interests  of  the 
United  States  were,  as  far  as  he  knew,  in  no  way 
involved  in  the  man's  character  or  actions.  Still, 
as  Fred  soliloquised,  "he  would  bear  watching." 

The  war  proceeded  with  unabated  vigour.  During 
the  second  week  of  Fred's  enforced  idleness  another 
sea-tragedy  took  place  in  the  Yellow  Sea,  off  Korea. 
The  Japanese  transport  Kinshiu  Maru  was  proceed- 
ing from  Nagasaki  to  the  Korean  coast,  with  am- 
munition, coal,  supplies,  and  infantry.  In  the 
middle  of  the  night  several  large  ships  loomed  up 
through  the  haze.  Supposing  them  to  be  Togo's 
fleet,  the  Kinshiu  Maru  signalled,  "I  am  bringing 


UNDER    THE  RED   CROSS.  If  I 

you  coal."  What  was  her  commander's  dismay  to 
read  the  answer,  twinkling  out  in  red  and  white 
Ardois  lights,  "Stop  instantly!"  At  the  same 
moment  the  cry  ran  through  the  transport,  "The 
Russians!  the  Russians !" 

"Surrender!"  signalled  Admiral  Yeszen,  from 
his  flagship.  It  was  the  Vladivostock  squadron 
of  formidable  cruisers,  released  at  last  from  the  ice 
which  for  months  had  both  protected  and  fettered 
them. 

Instead  of  surrendering,  the  crew  of  the  Kinshiu 
Maru  began  to  lower  their  boats  in  mad  haste, 
hoping  to  escape  in  the  darkness ;  a  Russian  steam 
cutter  captured  every  boat  but  one,  which  was 
afterward  picked  up  by  a  Japanese  schooner,  many 
miles  from  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 

The  Russians  boarded  the  transport,  and  found 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  soldiers,  who  barri- 
caded themselves  in  the  cabin  and  refused  to 
surrender.  Withdrawing  to  their  ships,  the  victors 
began  to  shell  the  doomed  hulk.  The  Japanese 
soldiers  swarmed  on  deck  and  discharged  their  rifles 
in  the  direction  of  the  foe,  shouting  old  Samurai 
battle-songs.  Pierced  and  shattered,  the  transport 
settled  lower  and  lower  in  the  water.  At  last  a 
Whitehead  torpedo,  exploding  against  the  ship, 
tore  a  great  hole  in  her  hull  amidships,  and  she 
plunged  into  the  depths  of  the  sea.  Up  to  the  last 


172  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

moment,  when  the  waves  rolled  over  them,  the 
soldiers  shouted  their  defiance  and  steadily  loaded 
and  fired.  With  two  hundred  prisoners,  the  Rus- 
sian squadron  returned  to  Vladivostock. 

On  land  the  Japanese  advanced  steadily.  Gradu- 
ally the  long,  throttling  fingers  extended  from  east 
and  west  toward  the  railroad  that  meant  life  or 
death  to  the  great  fortress.  Then  came  the  battle 
of  the  Yalu,  to  the  east.  The  river  was  crossed, 
the  Japanese  poured  into  Manchuria,  and  the  posi- 
tion of  the  Russian  forces  on  the  Liaotung  peninsula 
became  still  more  critical.  Supplies  were  crowded 
into  the  beleaguered  port,  and  non  -  combatants 
filled  the  northward-bound  trains  to  overflowing. 
Early  in  May  it  became  evident  that  with  one  more 
clutch  of  the  relentless  hand  of  Nippon  all  com- 
munication between  Port  Arthur  and  the  rest  of 
the  world  would  be  cut  off. 

Fred  Larkin  saw  that  he  must  decide  whether  to 
move  out  at  once  or  remain  virtually  a  prisoner  in 
the  town.  Most  of  the  other  correspondents  had 
already  gone.  The  instructions  from  the  home 
office  were  ambiguous.  He  tried  to  cable  again,  but 
the  wires  were  pre-empted  for  military  despatches 
in  those  stirring  days.  He  decided,  reluctantly,  to 
abandon  Port  Arthur  and  join  the  Russian  army 
now  entrenched  a  few  miles  north,  on  the  line  of 
the  railroad. 


UNDER  THE  RED  CROSS.  173 

On  the  evening  before  the  day  which  he  had  set 
for  his  departure  he  was  strolling  about  the  large 
square  where  a  military  band  was  playing  national 
airs,  when  he  bumped  against  a  stranger  who  was 
hurrying  in  the  opposite  direction.  Both  paused, 
and  their  eyes  met. 

"Larkin!" 

"Stevens!" 

4 'Hush!  "  said  the  latter,  looking  nervously  over 
his  shoulder.  "My  name  is  Burley.  Why  are  you 
here?  When  did  you  leave  Tokio?" 

"At  about  the  same  time  when  you  decamped 
with  the  War  Office  documents,"  said  Fred  easily. 
"Look  here,  old  fellow,"  he  continued  with  assumed 
cordiality,  "there  's  no  need  for  us  to  quarrel  in  a 
foreign  camp.  You  've  got  something  on  hand 
now,  or  I  'm  mistaken.  Can't  you  let  me  in?" 

"You  used  pretty  hard  words  to  me  the  last  time 
we  met,"  said  the  other  gloomily.  "It  was  n't 
your  fault  that  I  was  n't  strung  up." 

"Nor  yours  that  I  was  n't,"  assented  Fred  cheer- 
fully, "so  we  're  square  on  that  score.  But  this  is 
a  different  matter.  It  's  all  Japanese  or  Russian 
over  here,  and  your  Uncle  Samuel  has  n't  a  finger 
in  the  pie.  Now  you  must  have  made  a  good  thing 
out  of  your  Tokio  observations, and  the  presumption 
is  that,  having  the  confidence  of  our  friend  Stoessel 
and  his  staff,  you  are  about  ready  to  face  about," 


174  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Perhaps  I  am,"  said  Stevens,  or  Burley,  again 
looking  about  him.  "And  if  I  am,  I  need  one  good 
man  I  can  depend  on,  to  help  me  in  the  job.  It  's 
too  big  for  one  to  handle,  and  the  city  is  so  full  of 
spies  that  I  would  n't  trust  a  native  round  the 
corner.  But  how  do  I  know  you  will  do  your  part, 
eh?" 

"Try  me  and  see,"  said  Larkin  with  great  firm- 
ness. 

"All  right,  I  '11  try  you."  They  were  now  walk- 
ing through  one  of  the  side  streets,  which  was  but 
dimly  lighted.  "Here  are  my  lodgings.  Come  in 
and  we  '11  talk  it  over." 

He  opened  the  outer  door  with  a  pass-key,  and 
Fred  followed  him  up  two  flights  of  narrow  stairs. 

"Here  we  are,"  said  Burley,  opening  a  door. 
"Step  right  in,  and  I  '11  light  up." 

Larkin  entered,  but  he  was  hardly  over  the 
threshold  when  he  was  pushed  headlong  to  the  floor, 
and  heard  the  door  closed  and  locked  behind  him. 

A  low  laugh  sounded  from  the  entry.  'Help 
me  out,'  will  you,  you  puppy?"  whispered  Burley 
through  the  keyhole.  You  '11  never  help  anybody 
out,  in  this  world.  Within  ten  minutes  this  house 
will  be  a  heap  of  rubbish,  and  you  will  be  in  king- 
dom come.  Good-bye !  I  '11  report  you  at  home !  " 

His  steps  echoed  down  the  stairway,  and  then  the 
house  was  still. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   LAST  TRAIN   FROM   PORT  ARTHUR. 

FRED  LARKIN'S  first  move,  on  finding  himself 
trapped,  was  a  perfectly  natural  one.  He 
scrambled  to  his  feet  and  rushed  to  the  door.  It 
took  him  some  time  to  find  the  knob,  in  the  dark- 
ness, and  on  turning  it  and  pulling  with  all  his  might 
he  was  not  surprised  to  discover  that  it  refused  to 
yield. 

"It  's  a  bad  scrape,"  said  the  reporter  to  himself, 
breathing  hard  with  his  exertions,  "but  I  've  been 
in  worse  ones,  unless  that  threat  of  blowing  up  the 
house  is  carried  out." 

He  had  been  fumbling  in  his  pocket,  and  now 
drew  from  it  a  box  of  wax  vestas,  one  of  which  he 
struck.  The  light  disclosed  a  small  room,  perfectly 
bare.  A  glance  at  the  heavy  door  convinced  him 
that  it  was  useless  to  attempt  a  speedy  escape  in 
that  direction.  There  were  two  low  windows,  both 
with  the  sashes  fastened  down  and  protected  by 
outside  shutters  of  wood. 

Fred    made   short   work   of   one   of   the   sashes, 


176  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

smashing  it  to  bits  with  his  foot.  He  then  un- 
hasped  the  shutters  and  peered  out.  The  night  was 
cloudy  and  he  could  discover  nothing  beyond  the 
fact  that  there  was  a  sheer  drop  of  at  least  twenty- 
five  feet  to  a  sort  of  yard,  which  might  be  paved 
with  brick  or  lumbered  up  with  stones  and  iron 
scrap,  for  all  he  could  see.  The  buildings  beyond 
seemed  to  be  warehouses  of  some  sort ;  not  a  light 
gleamed  from  a  single  window.  He  shouted  with 
all  his  might  for  help,  but  none  came.  Although 
he  did  not  believe  the  house  would  "be  a  heap  of 
rubbish  in  ten  minutes  " — three  of  which  had  already 
elapsed — he  was  sufficiently  in  doubt  to  be  perfectly 
willing  to  leave  it  at  once,  if  there  were  any  possible 
way  of  escape. 

As  he  stepped  back  into  the  room  the  flooring 
creaked  under  his  foot.  Lighting  another  wax 
match  he  found  that  a  board  was  loose.  He  man- 
aged to  get  his  fingers  under  the  end,  and,  throwing 
his  whole  weight  upward,  ripped  out  the  board. 
With  the  first  for  a  lever,  its  neighbour  came  up 
easily  enough.  It  was  a  cheaply  built  house,  with- 
out a  second  layer  beneath  the  surface  floor.  The 
edgewise-set  planks  on  which  the  boards  rested  were 
about  two  feet  apart.  Fred  did  not  hesitate  a  mo- 
ment, but  stamped  hard  upon  the  upper  side  of  the 
ceiling  of  the  apartment  beneath  his  own.  His  foot 
went  through  the  lath  and  plaster  with  a  smash  and 


THE  LAST  TRAIN  FROM  PORT  ARTHUR.      177 

a  cloud  of  dust.  Picking  up  the  broken  boards,  he 
enlarged  the  hole,  and,  as  soon  as  the  dust  cleared 
away,  peered  through  the  opening.  The  room  be- 
low was  as  dark  as  his  own.  He  "sounded  "  with 
the  longest  floor-board  at  his  disposal,  and  was 
gratified  to  find  that  he  could  "touch  bottom"  at 
about  nine  feet  depth.  Without  losing  further 
time  he  crawled  through  the  hole,  hung  off  from 
the  stringers  and  dropped. 

Recovering  himself  from  the  shock  of  alighting  in 
the  dark,  Fred  hastily  produced  another  vesta,  in 
order  to  survey  his  new  quarters.  The  room  was 
entirely  unfurnished,  like  the  one  above.  In  one 
respect,  however,  it  differed  from  the  apartment  in 
which  he  had  been  so  unceremoniously  installed : 
the  door  was  ajar !  In  a  minute  more  Larkin  stood 
on  the  pavement  outside,  and  in  another,  having 
taken  a  careful  survey  of  the  premises,  he  was  hurry- 
ing away  to  his  own  lodgings,  which  he  reached  in 
safety,  congratulating  himself  on  the  happy  issue  of 
his  evening's  adventure. 

Martin  Stevens,  like  all  evil-doers,  was  an  un- 
happy man.  For  weeks  and  months  he  would  toil 
at  a  self-imposed  task,  to  earn  money  and  fame  at 
the  expense  of  principles,  and  when  he  seemed  to 
himself  to  have  attained  absolute  success,  and  felt 
the  crackle  of  his  basely  earned  bank-notes  in  his 
pocket, — he  was  miserable.  The  luscious  fruit  he 


j^g  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

had  so  long  looked  forward  to  eating  was  a  Dead 
Sea  apple,  crumbling  to  ashes  at  the  first  bite. 

After  his  narrow  escape  from  death  at  the  hands 
of  the  Spaniards  in  Santiago,  he  had  engaged  in 
various  questionable  enterprises  on  the  Continent, 
where  a  natural  aptitude  for  languages  soon  enabled 
him  to  converse  fluently  in  German,  French,  Italian, 
and  Russian.  He  was  already  master  of  Spanish,  as 
we  have  seen,  and  he  had  received  a  fine  education 
in  applied  mathematics,  physics,  and  navigation  at 
the  United  States  Naval  Academy.  Tall  and  rather 
well  formed,  carrying  himself  well,  and  conversing 
easily  in  the  language  of  the  country  where  he  de- 
sired to  exercise  his  peculiar  calling — that  of  a  pro- 
fessional spy  —  he  readily  obtained  admittance  to 
many  councils  and  offices  closed  to  the  general 
public.  He  had  correspondents  in  every  court  in 
Europe,  as  well  as  in  Japan  and  at  Pekin. 

When  Stevens  left  Tokio  in  disguise,  with  half  a 
dozen  important  papers  in  his  breast  pocket,  he  felt 
that  he  had  achieved  the  crowning  glory  of  his  life. 
The  documents  were  indeed  gladly  received  at  the 
Russian  headquarters,  but  the  man  was  despised 
and  distrusted.  The  bluff,  gallant  Stoessel  paid  the 
spy  a  large  sum  without  hesitation;  but,  beyond 
suggesting  another  expedition — perhaps  to  the  camp 
of  General  Nogi's  forces,  or  to  Admiral  Togo's  fleet 
— he  had  nothing  more  to  say  to  him.  As  the  high- 


THE  LAST  TRAIN  FROM  PORT  ARTHUR. 


179 


minded  Russian  turned  to  his  staff-officers,  whose 
bronzed,  manly  faces  bore  witness  to  their  honour- 
able service  under  the  Czar,  Stevens  sneaked  off, 
his  face  sallower  than  ever,  to  cash  the  official  draft 
and  to  gnash  hfs  teeth  at  the  cold,  contemptuous 
treatment  he  had  met  with  when  his  secrets  were  all 
divulged.  In  this  mood,  plotting  a  new  system  of 
espionage  upon  the  Russians,  whom  he  hated,  he 
had  met  Larkin.  He  had  already  recognised  the 
reporter  in  Tokio,  and  had  thought  himself  well  rid 
of  him  when  he  fled  to  Port  Arthur.  No  sight 
could  have  been  more  unwelcome  to  him  than  that 
of  Larkin's  merry,  honest,  shrewd  countenance, 
rising  before  him  like  Banquo's  ghost,  when  least 
expected. 

Near  Stevens's  lodgings  was  an  empty  house  of 
which  he  had  the  key,  and  in  which  he  had  already 
met  representatives  of  that  terrible  class  of  men  who 
are  now  found  in  all  parts  of  the  civilised  world, 
but  most  where  the  double  eagle  of  the  Russian 
flag  proclaims  the  despotic  rule  of  St.  Petersburg 
—  the  Nihilists.  Revolving  in  his  mind  various 
plans  for  getting  rid  of  Larkin  without  actually  com- 
mitting murder,  he  determined,  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment,  to  lock  him  up  over  night  at  this  secret 
place  of  rendezvous.  He  even  thought  vaguely  of 
blowing  up  the  building  with  a  bomb,  which  one  of 
his  friends  would  supply  on  demand.  He  shrank, 


!  go  THE  NOR  TH  PA  GIF  1C. 

however,  from  this  extreme  measure,  which  would 
put  his  own  head  in  peril,  and  contented  himself 
with  giving  the  war  correspondent  a  good  scare,  out 
of  pure  malice,  and  with  so  disposing  of  his  person 
that  he  would  be  kept  out  of  the  way  over  night. 
He  had  no  doubt  that  Larkin  would  gain  his  release 
in  some  way  the  next  morning,  but  there  would  be 
time,  meanwhile,  to  don  a  new  disguise  and  perfect 
arrangements  for  leaving  the  city.  How  he  failed, 
we  have  seen.  Fred  Larkin  was  not  an  easy  man  to 
scare,  or  to  keep  within  four  walls  against  his  will. 
The  next  morning,  accordingly,  both  spy  and  re- 
porter were  at  the  railway  station,  eager  to  take  the 
first  train  for  the  north.  There  was  a  dense  crowd 
of  refugees  struggling  for  places,  and  neither  of  the 
two  men  was  conscious  of  the  other's  presence  on 
board  when  the  guard's  whistle  sounded  at  last,  and 
the  long  train  —  the  last  train  for  many  a  weary 
month,  as  it  proved — moved  out  of  Port  Arthur. 

It  was  six  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  May  6th. 
The  sun  had  burst  through  the  clouds  which  had 
rendered  the  preceding  night  so  gloomy,  and  the 
country  around  the  city  stretched  out  on  either  side 
of  the  railroad  in  all  the  loveliness  of  spring.  Fields 
and  hillsides  flushed  with  blossoms  of  almond  and 
apricot,  and  opened  fair  reaches  of  greensward  as 
the  train  rolled  past.  In  sheltered  nooks,  by  the 
banks  of  dancing  streamlets,  nestled  those  little 


THE  LAST  TRAIN  FROM  PORT  ARTHUR.      i8l 

Chinese  villages  which,  however  squalid  upon  close 
acquaintance,  add  a  picturesque  touch  to  the  Orien- 
tal landscape.  All  around  the  horizon  was  piled 
with  high  hills,  clothed  in  verdure  or  reddish  in  the 
early  sunlight  where  broad  ledges  and  stretches  of 
sandy  slope  had  been  denuded  by  storm  and  the 
hand  of  man.  Larkin  almost  forgot  the  war  and  the 
hot  passions  that  were  smouldering  behind  the  fair 
peaks  and  along  the  hidden  valleys  of  Manchuria,  as 
he  gazed  from  the  car  window  and  thought  of  the 
Brookfield  meadows  in  May,  the  little  stream  where 
he  had  caught  his  first  trout,  and  the  pine  wood 
which  sheltered  the  brave  mayflowers  and  hepaticas 
before  the  winter's  drifts  had  melted  on  the  northern 
slopes  and  in  the  deeper  recesses  of  the  forest. 

But  his  musings  were  rudely  interrupted.  At  the 
end  of  about  two  hours  after  leaving  Port  Arthur 
the  train  halted  at  the  outpost  position  occupied  by 
the  Russian  forces  under  General  Fock.  The  peace 
of  nature  was  broken  by  the  sound  of  sappers  and 
diggers  at  work,  by  commands  harshly  shouted,  the 
tramping  of  horses,  the  rumble  of  wheels,  the  stir 
and  bustle  of  an  armed  camp. 

On  again,  steadily  forging  northward,  with  the 
engine  throwing  out  great  clouds  of  black  smoke 
from  her  soft-coal  fuel  as  she  climbed  the  up-grades ; 
through  several  villages  without  a  stop,  until  Kin- 
chow  was  reached.  A  sharp  lookout  was  now  kept 


1 82  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

for  Japanese  cavalry,  which  were  known  to  be  scour- 
ing the  country  to  the  east,  the  main  body  of  the 
invaders  having  already  made  a  substantial  advance 
from  Dalny,  on  the  eastern  coast.  A  train  had  been 
fired  upon,  only  the  day  before,  at  a  point  about 
forty  miles  north  of  Port  Arthur.  There  were 
rumours  that  Japanese  troops  were  landing  in  force 
at  Port  Adams,  on  the  west  coast  of  the  peninsula, 
near  Newchwang,  and  that  a  strong  detachment  had 
occupied  Haicheng,  just  south  of  Liaoyang. 

The  engineer  pulled  open  the  throttle,  as  the  train 
struck  a  long,  straight  piece  of  road.  The  cars 
rocked  from  side  to  side,  and  cries  of  alarm  from 
invalids  and  women  were  heard.  The  speed  was 
frightful.  Larkin  clung  to  his  seat,  devoutly  hoping 
that  his  journalistic  career  would  not  terminate  in  a 
smash-up  on  the  Imperial  Trans-Siberian  Railroad. 
Just  then  a  band  of  horsemen  was  seen  galloping 
toward  the  road.  They  drew  up  sharply  and  could 
be  seen  to  unsling  their  muskets.  Puff!  Puff!  No 
noise  could  be  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  train, 
but  the  passengers  were  not  left  in  doubt  as  to  the 
cavalrymen's  intentions.  A  dozen  windows  were 
shattered  by  bullets,  while  the  frightened  inmates 
of  the  rocking  cars  crouched  low  between  the  seats. 
With  a  rush  and  a  roar  the  train  clattered  on,  leav- 
ing the  assailants  far  behind. 

On  and  on,  through  Newchwang,  crossing  bridges 


THE  LAST  TRAIN  FROM  PORT  ARTHUR.    183 

which  were  soon  to  be  wrapped  in  flames,  rattling 
over  level  plains,  winding  through  narrow  defiles 
surmounted  with  frowning  fortifications,  until  at 
last  the  train  rolled  into  the  station  at  Liaoyang. 
That  afternoon  the  railroad  was  crossed  by  the 
Japanese,  the  rails  torn  up,  bridges  burned  and  tele- 
graph wires  cut.  Port  Arthur  was  isolated  from  the 
world.  Its  next  telegram  would  be  sent  out  eight 
months  later,  to  be  recorded  in  the  quaint  characters 
of  the  Island  Empire. 

Fred  Larkin,  little  dreaming  that  his  captor  of 
the  preceding  evening  was  in  the  same  city,  at  once 
proceeded  to  make  himself  at  home.  He  presented 
his  credentials  at  headquarters,  secured  lodgings, 
and  sent  off  a  dispatch  to  the  Bulletin  that  very 
night,  describing  the  last  train  from  Port  Arthur 
and  the  conditions  as  he  had  found  them  in  that 
city.  This  final  portion  of  his  telegram  would  have 
occupied  about  half  a  column  of  his  paper.  The 
grim  censor  blue-pencilled  it  down  to  eight  lines 
and  a  half! 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE. 

OSPR£  F,  ordered  to  Chemulpo. ' '  Hallie  Rex- 
dale  read  the  brief  announcement  in  the  list 
of  "navy  orders,  Asiatic  fleet,"  and  wondered  if  her 
Dave  were  summoned  to  new  dangers.  While  his 
ship  was  stationed  at  Chefoo  she  felt  comparatively 
easy  about  him ;  but  Chemulpo,  the  port  of  Seoul, 
Korea,  was  almost  on  the  firing  line.  To  be  sure, 
the  United  States  was  as  yet  in  no  way  involved  in 
the  conflict,  but  suppose  the  Vladivostock  fleet 
should  happen  to  descend  upon  Chemulpo?  Shells 
would  fly,  and  the  Osprey  could  not.  The  obscure 
half-line  in  the  newspaper  recording  naval  move- 
ments, and  overlooked  by  all  but  one  in  a  thousand 
readers,  carries  joy  or  dismay  to  many  a  wife  and 
sweetheart,  for  whom  the  interest  in  the  whole 
paper  centres  in  that  one  announcement.  Hallie 
tore  up  the  envelope  she  had  already  addressed,  and 
added  a  few  lines  to  her  letter,  tearfully  bidding — 
bless  her  heart !— her  gallant  commander  to  "be 
careful." 

184 


DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  1 8$ 

The  officers  and  crew  of  the  gunboat  were  glad 
to  receive  the  order,  when  it  reached  them  late  in 
May.  They  were  heartily  tired  of  Chefoo,  and  any 
change  was  hailed  with  delight.  They  foresaw, 
moreover,  that  before  long  the  Osprey  would  be 
ordered  to  Cavite,  there  to  dock  for  repairs  and  the 
cleaning  up  her  weedy  hull  needed. 

From  Chefoo  to  Chemulpo  the  distance  is  about 
four  hundred  miles.  Rexdale  consulted  his  charts 
and  reckoned  that  thirty-six  hours  would  be  needed 
for  the  trip.  Word  was  passed  that  all  liberty  on 
shore  was  at  an  end,  and  every  man  was  supposed 
to  be  on  board  before  four  bells  that  same  evening. 
"Supposed  to  be" — but  the  commander  knew  that 
his  crew  had  recently  been  diminished,  and  he  felt 
sore  on  that  particular  subject.  Three  men,  during 
the  preceding  fortnight,  had  deserted,  presumably 
to  join  the  Russian  navy,  which  was  offering  gener- 
ous inducements  to  new  recruits.  It  is  reckoned,  at 
the  present  day,  that  nearly  ten  per  cent,  of  men — 
not  all  "enlisted" — in  the  United  States  Navy 
sooner  or  later  desert. 

At  Morning  Quarters,  on  the  day  when  the  Osprey 
was  to  weigh  anchor  and  sail  for  Chemulpo,  one 
more  man  was  missing — no  other  than  our  old  friend 
Dick  Scupp.  He  had  been  one  of  the  shore  party 
of  the  preceding  day,  and  in  some  way  his  absence 
from  mess  had  been  overlooked  at  night.  One  of 


186  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

his  mates  remembered  seeing  him  enter  a  saloon  in 
Chefoo,  kept  by  a  Chinaman  of  more  than  doubtful 
reputation;  nothing  further  could  be  ascertained 
concerning  the  seaman's  movements.  Dave  knew 
that  sailors  are  loath  to  betray  one  of  their  number, 
and  questioned  them  sharply,  as  Dick  was  too  valu- 
able a  man  to  lose  without  an  effort  for  his  recovery. 
He  even  delayed  sailing  while  "Jimmy  Legs  "  spent 
a  couple  of  hours  searching  for  the  delinquent  in  the 
lower  quarters  of  the  town ;  but  no  light  was  thrown 
on  his  disappearance.  The  Chinese  saloon-keeper, 
Ah  Fong,  declared  that  a  sailor-man  answering  to 
Scupp's  description  had  become  partly  intoxicated 
on  the  premises  and  had  been  summarily  ejected. 
That  was  the  last  seen  of  him.  Lieut. -Commander 
Rexdale  could  wait  no  longer  and  put  to  sea,  log- 
ging the  incident  as  "Dick  Scupp,  Ordinary  Sea- 
man, disappeared  in  Chefoo.  Probably  deserted." 
At  a  little  before  noon  the  Osprey  was  under  way. 
There  was  no  local  pilot  on  the  bridge,  for  each  of 
the  officers  was  supposed  to  be  perfectly  capable  of 
taking  the  ship  out  and  conning  her  across  the  gulf 
to  the  port  of  destination.  During  the  long  stay  at 
Chefoo  Rexdale,  in  particular,  had  improved  the 
time  by  as  careful  a  study  of  the  currents,  channels, 
tides,  and  beacons  on  the  Chinese  coast  as  if  he 
were  to  pass  an  examination  in  seamanship  at 
short  notice. 


DICK   SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  1 8? 

The  gunboat  was  about  five  miles  out  when  the 
attention  of  Staples,  the  executive,  was  called  to  a 
large  junk  crossing  her  bow  about  a  mile  ahead. 

" There  's  some  sort  of  a  row  on  board,"  said  the 
lieutenant,  as  he  eyed  the  lumbering  craft  through 
his  glasses.  "It  looks  like  a  free  fight  among  the 
pigtails." 

Rexdale  and  Liddon,  the  officer  of  the  deck, 
joined  him  in  scrutinising  the  stranger,  whose  decks 
seemed  to  be  crowded  with  men,  among  whom  a 
struggle  was  evidently  taking  place. 

Suddenly  the  commander  exclaimed:  "There 
goes  a  man  overboard,  and  the  scoundrels  don't 
mean  to  stop  for  him ! ' ' 

"He  may  be  dead,"  suggested  Staples  coolly. 
"He  seemed  to  be  muffled  in  black,  which  is  n't  the 
fashionable  costume  for  a  Chinese  coolie." 

"We  must  pick  him  up,"  said  Dave  with  energy. 
"He  's  alive  and  struggling.  I  can  see  his  head 
now — I  believe  it  's  a  negro.  Port  your  helm  a 
little,  Mr.  Staples.  Head  for  the  man  and  get  your 
lifeboat  ready ! ' ' 

"Port,  Quartermaster!"  commanded  the  execu- 
tive. Then,  raising  his  trumpet  to  his  lips,  he 
shouted,  "Man  the  lifeboat!  " 

It  should  be  understood  that  the  Osprey,  like 
most  gunboats  of  her  class,  carried  two  large 
' '  whaleboats. ' '  These  were  kept  ready  for  lowering 


1 88  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

quickly,  when  the  ship  was  at  sea.  The  one  which 
happened  to  be  on  the  lee  side  at  any  given  time 
was  the ''lifeboat."  There  is  always  a  "lifeboat's 
crew"  on  watch,  while  at  sea,  permanently  detailed, 
all  fully  drilled  in  their  duties. 

Staples's  voice  rang  like  a  bugle-call  throughout 
the  ship  and  in  an  instant  every  man  in  the  lifeboat 
crew  was  on  his  feet  and  racing  for  his  station. 

"Steady,  Quartermaster,"  commanded  Rexdale. 
"Keep  her  as  she  is.  You  're  heading  straight  for 
him." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir!  East-north-east,  sir!  "  responded 
the  quartermaster. 

"I  '11  relieve  you,  Mr.  Liddon,"  said  Staples. 
"You  go  down  and  look  out  for  the  boat!  " 

By  this  time  the  boat-crew  were  clambering  into 
the  lee  whaleboat,  led  by  Midshipman  Starr,  who 
had  cleared  the  wardroom  ladder  in  a  flying  leap  at 
the  first  order  from  the  bridge.  Within  sixty 
seconds  from  the  call  "Man  the  lifeboat!  "  the  boat 
was  ready  for  lowering.  In  the  stern-sheets  stood 
the  coxswain,  steering  oar  in  hand,  with  every  nerve 
alert  and  tense ;  the  bow  oarsman  had  cast  off  the 
end  of  the  "sea  painter,"  but  kept  a  turn  with  it 
around  the  forward  thwart.  The  other  men  were 
seated  on  the  thwarts,  two  of  them  with  boat-hooks, 
with  which  they  were  prepared  to  push  the  boat  off 
from  the  ship's  side  while  being  lowered,  as  the 


DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  189 

Osprey  was  rolling  a  little  in  a  cross  swell.  Bob 
Starr  was  beside  the  coxswain,  and  awaited  the  com- 
mand for  lowering,  as  he  tried  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  drowning  man  in  the  sea  far  ahead. 

When  the  alarrti  was  first  given  the  Osprey  was 
making  about  ten  knots  an  hour,  which  would  call 
for  six  minutes  to  cover  the  intervening  mile.  Rex- 
dale  knew  better  than  to  slow  up  and  lower  his  boat 
at  once,  thus  increasing  this  time  and  the  risk  of 
losing  the  man. 

"Port  a  little  more,  Quartermaster!  "  ordered  the 
captain.  "Mr.  Staples,"  he  added,  "whistle  down 
to  the  engine-room  and  tell  them  to  give  us  all  the 
speed  they  can." 

After  a  brief  colloquy  through  the  tube  the  exec- 
utive reported:  "They  can  do  a  little  better,  sir, 
but  not  much.  They  were  just  starting  to  clean 
fires." 

Liddon,  on  the  quarter-deck,  now  called  out, 
"All  ready  the  lifeboat,  sir!  " 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Liddon,"  returned  Staples. 
"Hold  on  all  till  I  give  you  the  order  to  lower." 

Four  minutes  went  by,  with  only  an  occasional 
growl  from  Dave:  "Port  a  little!  steady,  now! 
Starboard  a  little!  Steer  a  steady  course  there  at 
the  wheel — you  're  yawing  all  round  the  compass ! 
There  you  are !  See  if  you  can  hold  her  steady  at 
that!" 


190  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  man  in  the  water  was  now  about  two  hundred 
yards  away. 

"Stop  both  engines,  Mr.  Staples!  " 

The  executive,  who  was  already  standing  with 
his  hand  on  the  lever  of  the  port  indicator,  swung 
it  sharply  to  "Sta/,"  while  the  quartermaster,  at 
the  starboard  indicator,  did  the  same. 

"Half  speed  astern  with  both  engines!"  com- 
manded the  captain.  "Stand  by  to  lower,  Mr. 
Staples!" 

Again  the  signal  levers  swung,  and  the  executive 
called  out,  "Stand  by  to  lower,  Mr.  Liddon,  as  soon 
as  we  stop  backing!  " 

The  ship  slowed  down,  trembling  under  the  re- 
versed strokes  of  the  powerful  screw  and  rolling 
sheets  of  white  foam  from  beneath  each  quarter. 

"Stop  both  engines!  "  ordered  Dave. 

"Stop,  sir!" 

"Lower  away,  Mr.  Staples!" 

"Lower  away,  sir!  "  and  an  instant  later  the  boat 
sank  to  the  water,  was  detached,  and  was  pulling 
rapidly  toward  the  swimmer,  who,  when  first  aban- 
doned by  the  junk,  had  paddled  about  irresolutely, 
but  was  now  making  his  way  steadily  toward  the 
boat. 

"It  's  a  negro,  fast  enough,"  observed  Staples, 
gazing  through  his  binoculars.  "He  's  as  black  as 
the  ace  of  spades." 


DICK  SCUFFS  ADVENTURE.  19! 

"Give  her  half -speed,  Mr.  Staples,"  directed 
Rexdale,  whose  whole  mind  was  now  on  the  man- 
agement of  his  ship,  "and  come  round  to  pick 
them  up!  " 

Again  the  signal  jingled  in  the  engine-room,  and 
the  ship,  with  helm  a-starboard,  circled  round  the 
lifeboat. 

"Up  oars!  Shove  off!  "  commanded  Starr  in  low 
tones,  as  soon  as  the  boat  had  detached  itself  from 
the  patent  hooks.  4 '  Let  fall ! ' ' 

The  orders  were  repeated  sharply  by  the  coxswain, 
the  oars  dropped  into  the  rowlocks,  and  were  brought 
level  with  the  rail,  with  blades  horizontal. 

"Give  way  together!"  and  away  went  the  boat 
on  its  errand  of  mercy,  foaming  over  the  choppy 
sea,  toward  the  struggling  swimmer. 

"Way  enough!"  ordered  the  midshipman,  as 
they  approached  the  black,  woolly  head  bobbing 
about  in  the  water. 

Bob  stood  up  in  the  stern-sheets,  as  the  boat  lost 
its  headway.  Suddenly  a  look  of  wonder  came  into 
his  face,  succeeded  by  a  suppressed  chuckle,  to  the 
amazement  of  the  men,  no  one  of  whom,  however, 
broke  discipline  by  turning  his  head. 

"In  bows!"  called  the  coxswain,  in  response  to 
Starr's  order.  "Stand  by  there,  to  pull  the  man  in ! 
Hold  water!  Stern  all!" 

Again   a   ripple   of   amusement    shot    over    the 


1Q2  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

midshipman's  jolly  face,  which  grew  red  in  his  at- 
tempts to  suppress  his  emotions. 

The  next  moment  the  bow  oarsman  reached  down 
and  with  a  great  effort  pulled  the  dripping  cast- 
away in  over  the  side. 

A  roar  of  laughter  rang  out  from  the  boat's  crew. 

"A  dog!  A  big  Newfoundland!  "  exclaimed  the 
coxswain,  as  the  animal,  sinking  down  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  with  a  low  whine,  gave  himself  a  shake 
that  sent  the  water  flying  over  the  men.  "Shall 
we  throw  him  over  again,  sir?" 

"No,  no,"  laughed  Bob,  resuming  his  seat. 
"He  's  too  fine  an  animal  to  drown.  Get  back  to 
the  ship.  That  's  enough,  men!  Silence!" 

Rexdale,  Staples,  and  Liddon  had  already  made 
out  the  character  of  the  supposed  "man  overboard," 
and  were  shaking  with  laughter  when  Bob  returned. 
The  duty  remained,  however,  of  hoisting  the  boat 
and  resuming  the  course  to  Chemulpo. 

"Lead  along  and  man  the  lifeboat's  falls!" 
shouted  the  executive. 

The  boat  pulled  up  to  the  leeward  side  of  the 
ship — the  engines  having  been  stopped — and  a  line 
was  thrown  to  her.  This  was  deftly  caught  by  the 
bow  oarsman  and  a  turn  taken  around  the  forward 
thwart.  The  boat,  by  means  of  this  line  and  skilful 
management  of  the  steering  oar  in  the  hands  of  the 
coxswain,  was  sheered  in  under  her  falls,  which  had 


DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  193 

already  been  overhauled  down  so  that  the  lower 
blocks  were  within  easy  reach  of  the  men  in  the 
boat.  The  ship  in  the  meantime  was  forging  slowly 
ahead.  A  line  was  thrown  from  her  stern  to  a  man 
in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  who  took  a  turn  and  held 
on,  to  keep  the  boat  from  swinging  violently  for- 
ward when  she  should  leave  the  water. 

The  falls  were  now  hooked  on,  having  been  pre- 
viously manned  on  deck  by  a  long  row  of  men 
reaching  half  the  length  of  the  ship,  ready  to  run 
the  boat  up  quickly,  at  the  order. 

"Haul  taut!"  commanded  Liddon,  who  was 
standing  on  the  ship's  rail,  watching  affairs.  ' '  Hoist 
away ! ' ' 

Up  came  the  boat,  crew  and  all,  to  the  davits. 
The  men  clambered  out  and,  with  some  difficulty, 
passed  down  the  dog,  who  seemed  disinclined  for 
further  adventures. 

"Full  speed  ahead!"  jingled  the  engine-room 
bell,  at  Staples' s  command,  and  the  Osprey,  brought 
to  her  old  course,  once  more  started  for  Chemulpo. 

The  dog,  a  big,  shaggy  Newfoundland,  soon  re- 
gained his  composure,  and  wagged  his  way  along 
the  deck  with  the  greatest  good-humour. 

"He's  a  fine  fellow,  anyway,"  said  Dave,  patting 
the  broad  head.  "I  'm  glad  we  hove  to  for  him." 

"What   's  this  written   on    his   collar,"    queried 

Liddon,  taking  the  wet  leather  band  in  his  hands 
13 


194  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

and  turning  it,  so  as  to  read  some  rude  characters 
apparently  scratched  with  the  point  of  a  knife. 

Dave  glanced  down  carelessly,  then  sprang  up 
the  steps  to  the  bridge. 

"Starboard,  Quartermaster,"  he  ordered  in  sharp, 
quick  tones.  ^"Mr.  Staples,  head  her  dead  for  that 
junk!" 

Liddon  was  already  by  his  side.  After  the  first 
instant  he  did  not  wonder  at  the  commander's  sud- 
den change  of  course.  He,  too,  had  read  the  two 
words,  scrawled  on  the  dripping  leather  collar. 

' '  Shanghaied — Scupp. ' ' 

Both  officers  understood  in  a  moment  the  whole 
story  of  the  seaman's  mysterious  disappearance. 
They  reasoned  with  the  quickness  of  sailors — and 
correctly,  as  it  afterwards  appeared — that  Scupp  had 
yielded  to  his  one  unfortunate  weakness,  a  fondness 
for  liquor,  during  his  liberty  on  shore.  Once  inside 
the  rum  shop  he  had  been  plied  with  spirits,  prob- 
ably drugged — for  the  Chinese  are  experts  in  the 
use  of  opium — and  while  insensible  carried  on  board 
the  junk,  to  be  shipped  on  board  a  Russian  man-of- 
war.  So  many  men  had  deserted  for  that  purpose 
that  there  was  little  likelihood  of  the  man's  object- 
ing when  he  found  himself  actually  pressed  (or 
"shanghaied,"  to  use  an  old  sailor's  term  for  this 
sort  of  forcible  enlistment),  and  offered  wages 
double  those  he  had  been  earning.  While  the  Rus- 


DICK  SCUPPS  ADVENTURE.  195 

sian  navy  would  not  instigate  such  a  daring  breach 
of  the  law  of  nations  it  was  highly  improbable  that 
they  would  reject  a  good  seaman,  trained  to  his 
work  by  the  United  States. 

In  kidnapping  -Master  Richard  Scupp,  however, 
the  Chinese  made  a  bad  mistake.  Now  that  he  was 
sober  Dick  had  no  idea  of  deserting  his  colours  or 
taking  service  under  a  foreign  flag.  He  came  to  his 
senses  just  as  the  junk  cleared  the  chops  of  the 
harbour  of  Chefoo,  and  within  five  minutes  he  had 
laid  out  three  of  his  captors  and  was  himself  knocked 
down.  He  found  himself  lying  beside  a  big  dog, 
who  licked  his  face  and  expressed  his  willingness  to 
aid  his  new  friend,  so  far  as  he  was  able,  to  escape. 
Without  definite  purpose  Dick  scratched  the  two 
words  on  the  dog's  collar  with  the  point  of  his 
sheath  knife.  This  act  was  detected  by  the  ob- 
servant Chinese,  but  they  could  see  no  harm  in  his 
amusing  himself  in  that  way  and  were  rather  glad 
for  the  dog  to  keep  him  out  of  mischief. 

About  half  an  hour  later  there  was  a  commotion 
and  a  jabbering  of  tongues  among  the  pig-tailed 
crew.  Dick  stood  up  and  caught  sight  of  the 
Osprey  heading  toward  the  junk  at  full  speed.  This 
drove  him  wild  again.  Bowling  over  the  nearest 
Chinaman  he  sprang  for  a  spare  spar,  intending  to 
jump  overboard  and  take  his  chances  of  being 
picked  up.  The  crew  crowded  him  back,  and  the 


1 96  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

dog,  putting  his  forepaws  on  the  rail,  barked  joy- 
ously  at  the  gunboat  which  poor  Dick  vainly  longed 
to  reach. 

A  thought  struck  the  kidnapped  sailor  as  he 
watched  the  dog.  Before  any  one  could  stop  him 
he  leaped  to  the  side  of  the  junk  and  tossed  the 
animal  overboard.  He  knew  the  Newfoundland 
could  swim  like  a  fish,  and,  providing  a  shark  did 
not  drag  him  under,  there  was  just  a  chance  that 
the  officers  of  the  Osprey  might  see  the  dog  and, 
picking  him  up,  read  the  message  on  his  collar. 
The  plan,  as  we  have  seen,  succeeded  admirably. 

Dick  had  the  satisfaction  of  watching  the  gunboat 
at  it  slowed  down  and  sent  a  boat  to  his  four-footed 
messenger  struggling  in  the  sea.  The  Chinese,  as 
he  had  expected,  were  angry  at  the  loss  of  the  dog, 
but  did  not  dare  risking  a  visit  from  the  United 
States  war-ship  by  throwing  their  boat  up  into  the 
wind  and  rescuing  the  black  swimmer. 

"They  '11  know  where  I  am,  anyhow,  if  they  only 
read  that  collar,"  said  poor  Dick  to  himself,  as  the 
junk  rapidly  drew  away. 

He  was  now  forced  down  on  the  deck  behind  the 
rail  lest  he  should  be  made  out  through  the  glasses 
of  his  officers,  which  the  Chinese  knew  must  be 
scrutinising  the  craft  which  had  left  behind  such 
a  peculiar  bit  of  jetsam. 

The  Osprey  quivered  from  stem  to  stern,  under 


DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  197 

the  pressure  upon  her  engines.  The  firemen  guessed 
that  something  unusual  was  in  the  wind,  and, 
stripped  to  the  waist,  kept  the  furnace  doors  clang- 
ing and  the  fires  roaring  under  her  boliers. 

"We  're  walking  right  up  on  her!  "  said  Staples 
excitedly,  as  he  and  Dave  watched  the  chase.  "Is 
it  any  use  to  signal  to  them  to  stop?  Do  they 
understand  the  signals? " 

"We  '11  signal  in  a  way  they  will  understand," 
exclaimed  Rexdale,  "if  they  don't  obey  the  flags. 
Call  the  signal-men !  " 

In  response  to  a  shrill  whistle  two  men  came 
clambering  up  to  the  bridge  and  stood  ready  to  ex- 
ecute orders. 

Set  '  Stop  at  once,  *  ' '  commanded  Dave,  ' '  Gen- 
eral Merchant  Code." 

A  string  of  gay  little  flags  mounted  to  the  signal 
yard.  They  produced  not  the  slightest  effect  on 
the  flying  junk,  which  was  plunging  its  nose  into 
the  waves  and  scurrying  eastward  before  the  wind 
at  not  less  than  nine  or  ten  knots  an  hour. 

1 '  Pass  the  word  for  the  crew  of  the  forward  port 
three-pounder,  Mr.  Staples !  Stations !  Cast  loose 
and  provide!  " 

The  orders  were  repeated,  and  four  gunners 
sprang  to  their  places.  In  a  twinkling  the  captain 
of  the  crew  had  removed  the  gun-cover  and  tompion 
and  cast  adrift  the  gun-lashings ;  Number  Two  had 


198  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

gone  over  all  the  mechanism  of  the  mount  and  pro- 
vided revolvers  and  ammunition  for  all  four;  Num- 
bers Three  and  Four  brought  cartridges  and  swabs, 
and  took  positions  in  rear  of  the  breech  of  the  gun. 

"Load!" 

The  breech  was  opened,  a  cartridge  inserted,  and 
the  block  swung  back  into  place  and  clamped.  The 
junk  was  now  only  about  one  thousand  yards  dis- 
tant. The  Osprey,  closing  up  from  the  south,  held 
a  course  at  an  acute  angle  with  that  of  the  fugitive, 
to  head  her  off. 

The  best  marksman  of  the  gun-crew  now  stood  at 
the  breech,  and,  with  his  shoulder  against  the  padded 
crutch,  slowly  and  carefully  brought  the  Chinaman 
within  the  sighting  line. 

"Drop  a  shot  across  her  forefoot,"  ordered  the 
commander. 

"Commence  firing! " 

The  gun  roared,  and  a  big  splash  just  in  front  of 
the  junk  testified  to  the  correct  aim  of  the  pointer, 
and  at  the  same  time  spoke  in  a  language  that  could 
not  be  misunderstood.  The  vessel  veered  round, 
spilling  the  wind  out  of  her  great,  oddly-shaped 
sail,  which  hung  flapping  from  its  huge  yard. 

The  Osprey  had  now  forged  up  within  a  few  times 
her  own  length  and  slowed  down. 

"Mr.  Liddon,"  said  Dave  with  energy,  "you  will 
take  the  starboard  quarter-boat  and  board  that  ves- 


DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  199 

sel.  Arm  your  crew  with  cutlasses  and  revolvers, 
and  if  her  captain  can  understand  English,  tell  him 
I  '11  blow  him  out  of  the  water  if  he  does  n't  hand 
over  my  man." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!"  returned  Liddon,  delighted  with 
his  commission. 

For  the  second  time  within  an  hour  the  boat 
glided  down  from  the  davits,  and  went  tossing  over 
the  waves,  driven  by  eight  pairs  of  brawny  arms. 

Before  they  could  reach  the  side  of  the  junk,  a 
chorus  of  shouts  came  from  the  gunboat  they  had 
just  left. 

' '  Man  overboard !  Man  overboard !  Stand  by  to 
pick  him  up! " 

The  fact  was  that  when  the  Chinamen  saw  that 
the  formidable  war-ship  was  really  in  earnest,  a 
panic  seized  them.  They  all  shrieked  and  jabbered 
together,  as  their  vessel  hove  to,  and  Dick  Scupp 
plainly  saw  that  more  trouble  was  coming  for  him. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  dispute  between  two  factions 
on  the  junk,  one  of  which  screamed  and  pointed 
first  to  Dick  and  then  to  the  Osprey,  and  the  other 
pointed  as  furiously  to  the  hold  of  the  junk.  Com- 
prehending that  they  were  discussing  whether  to 
restore  him  to  his  own  ship,  or  to  hide  him  below 
decks — possibly  with  a  knife  in  his  heart — and  de- 
clare innocence,  the  sailor  made  ready  for  action. 

The  party  demanding  his  concealment  seemed  to 


200  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

have  carried  their  point,  for  a  number  of  them  now 
made  a  rush  for  Dick,  with  fierce  eyes  and  with 
daggers  drawn.  The  seaman  sprang  to  his  feet, 
catching  one  ot  his  guards  with  a  blow  under  the 
ear  and  tripping  the  other  to  the  deck.  Before  a 
hand  could  be  laid  upon  him  he  bounded  over  the 
rail  into  the  sea,  and  began  to  swim  vigorously  to- 
ward the  approaching  boat. 

All  efforts  of  the  crew  of  the  latter  were  now 
directed  to  saving  the  life  of  their  comrade.  Liddon 
steered  skilfully  up  to  him  and  a  moment  later  he 
was  dragged  in  over  the  gunwale,  gasping  and  sput- 
tering. The  junk,  meanwhile,  caught  the  wind  over 
her  bows  and  filled  away  again  toward  the  north- 
east. The  Osprey  waited  to  pick  up  her  boat,  as 
the  Chinamen  thought  she  would,  and  another  chase 
was  in  prospect. 

"Stave  her  to  bits!  It  's  an  insult  to  the  United 
States !  We  can  catch  up  with  her  in  five  minutes ! ' ' 
urged  the  junior  ofBcers  of  the  gunboat,  gathering 
around  their  commander,  forgetful  of  discipline. 

Rexdale  shook  his  head,  though  his  teeth  were  set 
and  his  face  red  with  suppressed  anger.  "We  can 
prove  nothing,"  he  said.  "They  '11  swear  he  was 
a  deserter  and  concealed  himself  on  board.  Uncle 
Sam  does  n't  want  to  take  on  China  or  anybody 
else  in  this  scrappy  country  just  now.  We  'd  be 
blamed  and  court-martialled  if  we  should  sink  a 


DICK  SCUPP'S  ADVENTURE.  2OI 

junkful  of  Chinamen  for  no  better  reason  than  the 
one  we  have." 

He  turned  to  the  pilot.  "Full  speed  ahead,  on 
her  course  for  Chemulpo."  Then,  calling  down  to 
the  gun-captain,  '* Unload  and  secure!" 

Dick  was  duly  disciplined  for  absenting  himself 
beyond  leave,  but,  considering  the  hard  experience 
he  had  undergone,  his  punishment  was  made  nom- 
inal, with  a  not  very  severe  reprimand  from  the 
commander.  The  dog  was  named  "Junk  "  and  be- 
came the  rival  of  the  black  kitten  —  though  very 
friendly  with  her — as  the  mascot  of  the  Osprey. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

OSHIMA   GOES  A-FISHING. 

CAPTAIN  OSHIMA  (promoted  from  lieuten- 
V->  ancy  for  bravery  on  the  field),  of  the  loth 
Regiment  in  the  Second  Japanese  Army,  under 
General  Odzer,  was  fishing.  Like  most  of  the 
Japanese  soldiers  he  had  brought  from  home,  among 
other  effects,  a  small  fishing-line  and  several  hooks. 
There  were  hours  and  even  days  when  he  was  called 
upon  to  perform  no  active  duty  beyond  routine 
drills,  and  in  memory  of  the  days  when  he  and  Oto 
used  to  tramp  the  brook-sides  of  dear  old  Japan,  dis- 
playing their  trophies  at  night  to  gently  admiring 
O-Hana-San  and  the  other  prim  little  maids  of  the 
village,  he  had  determined  to  try  his  luck  in  this 
strange,  war-swept  Manchuria.  The  hill-tops  might 
be  wreathed  in  battle-smoke  and  the  plains  heaped 
with  dead  and  dying;  but  in  obscure  valleys  and 
down  slopes  which  had  thus  far  escaped  the  tread 
of  martial  forces,  the  ploughshare  of  the  steel  shell 
and  the  terrible  harrow  of  shrapnel,  streamlets 
laughed  and  flowed  blithely  along  their  pebbled 

202 


OSHIMA    GOES  A-FISHING.  203 

courses,  and  tiny  trout  darted  to  and  fro  as  merrily 
as  in  the  dreamy  days  of  peace  and  plenty.  So 
Oshima  went  a-fishing. 

Unrolling  his  line  and  attaching  it  to  a  neat  little 
pole,  cut  in  a  near-by  thicket,  he  took  his  seat  on  a 
boulder  and  dropped  his  baited  hook  in  one  of  the 
quieter  pools  of  a  brook  that  fed  an  upper  branch 
of  the  Faitse  River.  It  was  warm,  and  Oshima 
took  a  fan  from  his  pocket  and  fanned  himself 
gravely  as  he  fished.  Every  Japanese  soldier  is 
provided  with  a  fan.  Oshima  had  often  looked 
back  on  his  company,  and  on  the  column  trailing 
behind,  on  a  long  march  under  the  scorching  Man- 
churian  sun  in  June,  and  had  seen  a  thousand  little 
fans  fluttering  beside  the  heads  of  the  men. 

The  Japanese  army  are  not  only  among  the 
fiercest  fighters  the  world  has  ever  known,  but  they 
are  dainty  in  their  appointments.  With  the  army 
go  camp-followers  who  are  allowed  to  sell  fans, 
handkerchiefs,  cigarettes,  tea,  soaps,  tooth-brushes, 
and  writing-paper.  For  the  officers  are  carried  great 
iron  kettles  in  nets,  two  on  a  pony ;  these  are  used 
in  heating  water  for  baths,  as  well  as  to  cook  the 
company  mess  of  rice.  A  few  squares  of  straw  mat- 
ting make  a  bath-house,  and  a  big  stone  jar  is  the 
tub  of  comfort  for  the  almond-eyed  campaigner. 
Much  time  is  also  spent  in  correspondence.  The 
field  post  carried  an  immense  amount  of  mail  every 


2O4  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

day  between  Antung  and  the  front.  Around  the 
camp  of  Oshima's  regiment  could  be  seen,  in  the 
quieter  hours  of  the  day,  hundreds  of  soldiers  sitting 
cross-legged  under  the  trees,  painting  artistic  epistles 
to  their  dear  ones  at  home  with  brushes  on  rolls  of 
thin  paper.  Oshima  himself  had  written  two  letters 
that  day ;  one  to  his  mother  and  one  to  O-Hana-San, 
who  was  now  a  volunteer  nurse  under  the  Red  Cross 
at  a  large  seaport  of  the  new  country.  So  he  went 
fishing. 

He  caught  three  very  small  trout  within  an  hour. 
Then  he  rose,  rolled  up  his  line  and  deposited  it  in 
a  neat  packet,  strung  the  fish  upon  a  twig  and  was 
about  to  return  to  camp  when  he  noticed  a  Chinese 
coolie  acting  very  peculiarly.  The  man  was  dressed 
as  a  Chinese  labourer,  with  a  helmet  upon  his  head, 
a  coarse  blouse  and  thick-soled  shoes,  like  all  of  his 
caste.  He  was  carrying  two  pails  of  water,  which 
he  had  just  filled  at  the  brook,  a  few  rods  below 
Oshima.  This  was  no  unusual  occupation  for  a 
coolie,  although  it  was  surprisingly  far  from  camp ; 
the  peculiarity  lay  in  the  keenness  with  which  the 
man  surveyed  the  outworks  of  the  fortifications,  and 
his  manner  in  glancing  nervously  over  his  shoulder 
as  he  walked  off.  When  he  saw  Oshima  looking  at 
him  he  almost  dropped  his  pails;  then  hurried  down 
toward  the  camp  at  a  pace  that  soon  carried  him 
out  of  sight. 


OSHIMA    GOES  A-FISHING.  20$ 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  captain — 
who  had  dined  sumptuously  on  rice  and  his  three 
fish — caught  sight  of  the  coolie  once  more.  The 
man  was  walking  past  his  tent,  carrying  water  as 
before.  Oshima  called  to  him  sharply.  Apparently 
the  coolie  did  not  hear,  for  he  continued  on  his  way, 
with  head  bent  and  eyes  cast  down. 

Oshima  spoke  a  few  words  to  his  orderly,  who 
passed  an  abrupt  order  to  two  privates  stationed 
near  headquarters.  They  at  once  stepped  after  the 
Chinaman,  and  clapping  their  hands  on  his  shoul- 
ders, turned  him  round  in  his  tracks  and  marched 
him  back  to  the  tent. 

Oshima  viewed  the  coolie  in  silence  for  a  moment ; 
then  said  in  Chinese, ' '  What  is  your  name,  my  man  ? ' ' 

"Ah  Wing,  master." 

"Your  occupation? " 

The  man  held  up  his  water-pails,  as  if  that  were 
a  sufficient  answer.  He  had  not  yet  looked  his  in- 
terrogator in  the  face,  but  persistently  gazed  down 
at  the  ground. 

Oshima  scrutinised  the  fellow  intently.  Sud- 
denly and  without  warning  the  officer  sprang  to 
his  feet,  knocked  off  the  helmet  and  tweaked  the 
supposed  coolie's  pigtail.  Behold,  it  came  off  in 
his  hand !  The  man  stood  erect.  He  dropped  his 
burden.  His  countenance  was  pale  but  firm.  He 
looked  his  captor  in  the  eye. 


2O6  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"You  are  a  Russian  soldier? "  asked  Oshima. 

"I  am  an  officer  in  the  Third  Siberian  Reserves," 
answered  the  prisoner  calmly,  in  his  own  language. 
"My  name  is  Sergius  Jalofsky.  Volunteers  were 
called  for  to  obtain  information  as  to  your  forces 
and  defences.  I  was  one  of  six  to  volunteer.  The 
other  five  have,  I  trust,  escaped.  I  was  to  return 
to  Liaoyang  to-night." 

"Search  him,"  said  the  Japanese  captain  sternly. 

From  an  inner  pocket  was  produced  a  paper  con- 
taining measurements,  figures,  and  plans  relating  to 
the  encampment.  The  evidence  was  convincing, 
even  if  the  spy,  seeing  that  escape  or  concealment 
was  impossible,  had  not  made  his  full  confession. 

"Hold  the  prisoner  under  guard,"  ordered  Oshima. 
"We  will  hold  a  court-martial  and  settle  this  matter 
at  once." 

The  capture  of  the  Russian  was  reported  at  once 
to  the  colonel  of  the  regiment,  and  a  council  of 
officers  was  convened.  Five  minutes'  deliberation 
was  sufficient. 

"You  will  die  at  sunset,"  said  Oshima  to  the  spy. 
"You  are  a  brave  man.  You  shall  be  shot." 

At  a  gesture  of  the  captain  the  guard  led  away 
the  prisoner,  whose  countenance  had  not  changed 
nor  features  relaxed  in  the  slightest  degree  when 
the  sentence  was  pronounced. 

The  sun  was  already  nearing  the  mountain-tops 


OSHIMA    GOES  A-FISHING.  2O? 

in  the  west,  and  the  cool  damp  shadows  of  evening 
rapidly  advanced. 

A  corporal's  guard  led  the  captive  to  a  retired 
spot  at  a  short  distance  from  the  camp.  The  men 
formed  in  line,  with  loaded  muskets  ready. 

"Sir,"  said  the  corporal,  "have  you  any  request 
to  make,  or  message  to  leave?  You  are  one  of  the 
bravest  men  I  ever  met.  I  give  you  my  word  your 
message  shall  be  delivered." 

For  the  first  time  the  Russian's  eyes  moistened. 
"I  thank  you,  comrade,"  said  he.  "I  have  but 
done  my  duty.  It  was  at  the  Czar's  command.  I 
have  no  word — yet — I  will  ask  you  to  send  word  to 
my  wife  in  Irkutsk  that  I  died  like  a  man  and  a  sol- 
dier." He  took  his  ikon  from  his  breast,  kissed  it, 
and  bent  his  head  over  it  a  moment.  Then,  having 
given  his  wife's  address  to  the  corporal,  who  wrote 
it  down  carefully,  he  folded  his  arms  and  stood  erect. 

The  corporal  gently  placed  the  folded  arms  down 
at  the  man's  side.  "It  is  well  not  to  cover  one's 
heart,"  he  said.  "Death  will  be  very  quick." 

The  Russian  bowed  his  head  gravely.  "I  am 
ready, ' '  he  said. 

' '  Ready,  men !     Aim !     Fire ! ' ' 

As  the  smoke  drifted  away,  the  Russian  looked 
upward  an  instant,  with  a  smile  on  his  bronzed  face ; 
then,  murmuring  "At — the — Czar's — command!" 
he  fell,  dead. 


208  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Day  by  day,  through  the  fierce  summer  heats  of 
June  and  July,  the  Japanese  strengthened  their  hold 
upon  lower  Manchuria,  and  tightened  the  cordon 
about  Port  Arthur. 

Nanshan  Hill  and  Motien  Pass  on  the  east  were 
carried  with  the  bayonet.  Kinchow  had  already 
fallen,  the  fire  of  the  Japanese  fleet  annihilating  the 
Russian  batteries  in  a  two-days  battle. 

When  the  great  Corliss  wheel  was  set  up  and  the 
massive  machinery  ''assembled"  at  the  Centennial 
Exposition  at  Philadelphia,  the  maker  refused  to 
start  his  engine  for  a  trial  before  the  Exposition 
was  officially  opened. 

"It  will  run,"  he  said,  "and  run  smoothly  and 
perfectly.  Every  part  is  exact;  figures  cannot 
lie." 

It  was  a  great  risk  to  take,  but  the  event  proved 
that  the  manufacturer  was  right.  When  the  electric 
signal  announced  the  formal  opening  of  the  Fair, 
steam  was  let  on.  The  huge  piston  of  the  Corliss 
engine  started ;  the  enormous  wheel — the  largest 
ever  made,  up  to  that  time — began  to  revolve,  and 
in  a  moment  every  polished  rod  and  valve  and  wheel 
in  the  great  engine  was  doing  its  part,  running  the 
entire  machinery  of  the  hall  and  performing  its  work 
without  jar  or  noise,  as  smoothly  as  a  child's  water- 
wheel  in  a  wayside  brook. 

So  operated  the  wondrous,  complex  machine  of 


OSHIMA    GOES  A-FISHING.  2Og 

the  Japanese  military  system,  from  the  first  mobili- 
sation in  Tokio,  through  the  hurry  and  risk  of  trans- 
portation across  the  inner  sea,  and  in  movement 
after  movement,  battle  after  battle,  in  a  country  far 
removed  from  home.  Field  telephones  kept  the 
commanders  in  touch  with  advanced  forces;  the 
commissary  department  fulfilled  its  duties  like  clock- 
work; Kuroki,  Oyama,  Nodzu,  Nogi,  moved  regi- 
ments and  divisions  to  and  fro  like  pieces  upon  a 
gigantic  chess-board. 

The  heat  was  now  terrible.  More  than  once  a 
whole  battalion  rushed  into  a  river  to  drink,  under 
the  full  sweep  of  the  enemy's  fire.  Still  the  resist- 
less army  of  small  brown  men  swept  onward,  march- 
ing through  fields  of  Chinese  corn,  winding  along 
narrow  defiles,  holding  firmly  every  point  of  vantage 
gained. 

As  the  end  of  August  drew  near  it  was  evident 
that  the  two  mighty  armies  must  meet.  Minor 
battles  had  been  fought,  and  skirmishes  had  been  of 
almost  daily  occurrence  throughout  the  campaign, 
but  the  vast  hordes  of  armed  men  from  the  East  and 
West  had  not  yet  been  pitted  against  each  other. 
The  time  had  come  at  last,  and  the  civilised  world 
held  its  breath. 

The  Russian  army  lay  strongly  entrenched  at 
Liaoyang,  an  old  town  on  the  line  of  the  railroad 
between  Port  Arthur  and  Harbin.  The  Japanese 


2IO  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

had  been  pouring  troops  into  the  peninsula  for 
months,  a  portion  called  the  Third  Army  gathering 
around  Port  Arthur,  under  General  Nogi,  the  re- 
mainder pressing  northward  on  the  heels  of  the  re- 
treating enemy.  The  objective  of  the  First,  Second, 
and  Fourth  Armies  was  Liaoyang.  The  supreme 
command  of  the  Japanese  forces  was  now  entrusted 
to  Field  Marshal  Marquis  Oyama,  who  had  com- 
manded ten  years  before,  in  the  war  against  China. 

The  three  armies,  having  overcome  every  ob- 
stacle, were  in  touch  before  Liaoyang.  They  formed 
a  huge  horse-shoe,  with  its  ends  resting  on  the 
Taitse  River,  on  the  south  bank  of  which  stood 
Liaoyang.  The  Russians  formed  an  inner  horse- 
shoe in  a  similar  position.  On  each  side  were  over 
two  hundred  thousand  men,  nearly  half  a  million 
human  beings,  all  animated  with  the  one  desire  to 
kill! 

On  the  morning  of  August  3Oth,  at  the  first  grey 
of  dawn  a  puff  of  white  broke  upward  from  the 
Japanese  lines  and  a  shell,  filled  with  shrapnel,  flew 
screaming  across  the  peaceful  plain — a  dread  mes- 
senger to  announce  the  beginning  of  the  longest  and 
greatest  battle  the  world  had  ever  known. 

One  battery  after  another  opened  fire,  throughout 
the  entire  front  of  nearly  forty  miles.  Under  cover 
of  the  artillery  attack  the  Russians  charged  furiously, 
often  driving  the  Japanese  before  them  at  the  point 


0  SHIM  A    GOES  A-FISHING.  211 

of  the  bayonet ;  but  no  sooner  was  a  company  or  a 
regiment  annihilated  than  another  took  its  place, 
and  was  hurled  against  the  foe.  Positions  were 
taken  and  retaken.  The  carnage  was  terrible. 
Never  in  the  world's  history  had  such  enormous 
masses  of  men  thrown  their  lives  away  with  utter 
abandon.  On  each  side  a  thousand  cannon  thun- 
dered from  morning  till  night.  At  noon  of  the 
second  day  a  slow  rain  began  to  fall,  transforming 
the  plain  into  a  quagmire,  crossed  and  recrossed  by 
endless  trains  of  men,  a  part  charging  toward  the 
front  with  wild  shouts  of  defiance,  a  part  halting, 
crawling,  limping,  or  lying  in  carts,  seeking  the  hos- 
pitals, where  their  ghastly  wounds  could  be  treated. 
When  the  second  night  fell  it  was  reported  in  every 
capital  in  both  hemispheres  that  after  two  days  of 
desperate  fighting  Kouropatkin  had  gained  a  decided 
advantage. 

Fred  Larkin  was  in  his  element.  Dashing  to  and 
fro  on  a  shaggy  little  Siberian  pony,  he  gathered 
news  as  if  by  instinct.  His  experience  in  the 
Spanish-American  War  served  him  in  good  stead, 
and  he  not  only  knew  what  deductions  to  draw  from 
certain  movements  on  both  sides,  but  what  informa- 
tion was  most  desired  by  his  paper  and  the  great 
reading  public  at  home.  In  Boston  the  crowds 
in  lower  Washington  Street  read  on  the  bulletin 
boards  the  despatches  he  dashed  off  in  his  note-book 


212  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

and  sent  from  the  Liaoyang  telegraph  office  after 
they  had  been  duly  censored. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  on  the  second  day  of  the 
battle  he  was  making  his  way  back  to  the  town 
across  the  miry  fields  south  of  Liaoyang.  The 
shaggy  pony  shook  his  mane  and  snorted  as  the 
rain  fell,  but  was  too  tired  to  trot. 

"Tough  day,  pony,"  said  Fred,  who  himself  was 
so  used  up  with  his  exertions  that  he  could  hardly 
sit  upright  in  the  saddle.  "Nevermind,  old  boy. 
In  half  an  hour  you  will  be  in  your  stable,  munch- 
ing oats.  You  shall  have  an  extra  good  supper  for 
the  hard  work  you  Ve — hallo!  be  careful!  " 

The  pony  had  wandered  a  little  from  the  main 
road,  which  the  steady  stream  of  hospital  and  com- 
missary waggons  had  made  well-nigh  impassable, 
and  Fred  had  allowed  him  to  pick  out  his  own  path 
across  the  plain  so  long  as  his  general  direction  was 
right.  The  little  animal  now  interrupted  him  by 
shying  violently  at  an  object  upon  which  he  had 
almost  trampled.  Peering  down  Fred  saw  a  soldier 
stretched  out  upon  the  sodden  ground.  At  first  he 
thought  the  man  was  dead,  but  looking  more  closely 
he  saw  the  soldier's  hand  move  slightly,  as  if  to 
ward  off  a  blow. 

"Poor  chap!"  said  Fred,  whose  kind  New  Eng- 
land heart  the  horrors  of  war  had  by  no  means 
hardened,  "I  won't  hurt  you.  Are  you  wounded?  " 


0  SHI  MA    GOES  A-FISHING.  21$ 

As  the  man  did  not  reply,  the  rider  dismounted  for 
a  closer  examination  of  the  prostrate  soldier.  Then 
he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  pity.  It  was  evident 
that  the  man  had  been  struck — probably  by  a  frag- 
ment of  a  shell — and  a  terrible  wound  inflicted  upon 
his  head.  How  he  had  managed  to  crawl  from  the 
firing  line  as  far  as  this  spot,  Larkin  could  not  see.  It 
was  plainly  impossible  for  him  to  live.  Fred  mustered 
up  what  little  Russian  he  could  command  and  spoke 
gently  to  the  poor  fellow,  whose  life  was  going  fast. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked.  "Can  I  do 
anything  for  you? " 

"Ivan — Ivanovitch,"  gasped  the  soldier,  making 
a  great  effort  to  speak.  "I  do  not — know — I  do 
not  understand — I  am  a — soldier  of — Russia — It  was 
the  command — the  Little  Father — ah-h!  " 

He  spoke  no  more,  but  lay  quiet  and  silent,  his 
white,  boyish  face,  upturned  to  the  slow  rain.  Fred 
opened  his  military  coat,  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
Ivan's  breast.  The  ikon  was  there,  treasured  to  the 
last ;  but  the  heart  no  longer  beat.  At  the  Little 
Father's  command,  Ivan  Ivanovitch,  like  thousands 
of  his  comrades,  not  knowing  why,  not  understand- 
ing, but  faithful  to  the  last,  had  given  up  his  home, 
his  dear  ones,  his  life. 

With  a  long  sigh  Fred  drew  the  flap  of  the  young 
soldier's  coat  over  the  still  face,  remounted  his  pony, 
and  rode  on  towards  Liaoyang. 


214  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

He  found  the  town  in  a  state  of  wild  confusion, 
with  heavy  carts  rumbling  through  the  ill-made 
streets,  crowds  of  wounded  men  on  their  way  to  the 
hospitals  and  the  trains  for  Mukden  ;  refugees  clam- 
ouring at  the  railroad  station,  householders  removing 
their  goods,  and  thousands  of  people  hurrying  to 
and  fro  like  ants  in  a  breached  ant-hill.  With  much 
difficulty  the  reporter  got  a  brief  dispatch  through 
to  the  Bulletin,  and  sought  a  well-earned  rest  at  his 
lodgings  near  the  station. 

Night  after  night  the  cannon  thundered,  and  day 
after  day  the  battle  raged.  The  Russian  front  was 
now  crowded  in  from  thirty  miles  to  less  than  eight. 
At  great  risk  Oyama  resolved  to  divide  his  army, 
and  attempt  a  flanking  movement,  which  proved 
successful.  On  the  seventh  day  of  the  battle,  Ku- 
roki  threw  a  strong  force  across  the  Taitse,  ten  miles 
above  the  town.  This  movement  turned  the  scale. 
Kouropatkin  gave  orders  to  fall  back  on  Mukden. 

Larkin,  meanwhile,  was  doing  the  work  of  half  a 
dozen  reporters  and  a  Good  Samaritan  besides.  He 
took  his  place  beside  the  surgeons  and  nurses,  when- 
ever he  could  leave  the  firing  line,  and  laboured  by 
the  hour,  caring  for  the  wounded,  especially  the 
Chinese  who  suffered  the  fate  of  those  caught  be- 
tween two  conflicting  forces.  The  losses  on  both 
sides  had  been  fearful,  and  the  amount  of  ammuni- 
tion expended  almost  incredible.  In  one  day  of  the 


OSHIMA    GOES  A-FISHING.  21$ 

battle  the  Russian  artillerists  reported  one  hundred 
thousand  shots  fired. 

Fred  was  assured  at  headquarters,  on  the  day  of 
Kuroki's  flank  movement,  that  in  any  case  Liaoyang 
would  not  be  evacuated  for  forty-eight  hours ;  so  he 
toiled  on,  in  good  faith,  making  no  special  provision 
for  his  withdrawal  from  the  front,  but  intending  to 
accompany  the  Russian  army  in  its  retreat.  The 
next  morning  what  was  his  surprise,  on  emerging 
from  his  lodgings,  to  find  the  town  deserted  by 
Kouropatkin's  forces.  Japanese  flags  were  already 
flying  from  almost  every  house  and  shop  of  the 
Chinese  inhabitants.  Shells  were  bursting  in  the 
streets,  and  the  Japanese  army  was  reported  just 
outside  the  gates. 

He  hurried  to  the  railway  station,  only  to  find 
that  the  last  train  had  gone.  There  seemed  no  way 
of  escape,  without  crossing  the  fire-swept  zone  in 
the  rear  of  the  retreating  army.  Fred  reluctantly 
faced  the  conclusion  that  he  must  return  to  the 
hospital  and  submit  to  inglorious  capture,  if  no 
worse,  at  the  hands  of  the  Japanese ;  and  this  when 
he  was  ordered  to  "remain  with  the  Russian  army" 
by  his  own  ' '  Czar, ' '  the  chief  of  the  Daily  Bulletin. 
The  reporter  ground  his  teeth  as  he  stood  irreso- 
lute, in  a  sheltering  doorway.  At  that  moment  he 
happened  to  glance  upward,  and  a  huge,  ungainly 
object,  showing  above  the  low  roofs  of  the  sur- 


2l6  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

rounding  buildings,  caught  his  eye.  At  first  it 
meant  nothing  to  him.  "The  balloon  section  have 
run  and  left  their  big  gas-bag  behind  them,"  he  said 
to  himself  mechanically.  Throughout  the  fight  a 
balloon  had  hovered  above  each  of  the  contending 
armies,  the  occupants  spying  out  the  dispositions 
of  the  enemy's  forces  and  telephoning  from  aloft  to 
the  commanders'  headquarters.  It  was  evident  that 
the  Russians,  startled  by  the  hurried  orders  to  re- 
treat, had  obeyed  so  hastily  as  to  leave  their  charge 
behind,  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Japanese. 

A  thought  flashed  across  Fred  Larkin's  quick 
brain  as  he  gazed  upon  the  swelling  expanse  of 
tawny  silk.  Quitting  the  doorway  where  he  had 
taken  refuge  from  the  bursting  shells,  and  snatching 
a  Japanese  flag  as  he  ran,  he  made  for  the  balloon. 
It  was  suspended  over  a  small  square,  held  down 
by  a  strong  hemp  cable.  To  spring  into  the  car 
was  the  work  of  a  moment.  He  drew  his  knife  and 
was  about  to  sever  the  rope  when  a  shriek  rang  out 
from  a  neighbouring  street  and  a  man  was  seen  run- 
ning toward  the  square,  pursued  by  half  a  dozen 
Chinamen. 

"Help!  Help!  They  '11  murder  me!  "  screamed 
the  man,  looking  about  wildly  as  he  ran. 

His  eye  fell  upon  Fred,  in  the  balloon,  and  at  the 
same  moment  the  reporter  recognised  him,  dis- 
guised, mud-stained,  and  dishevelled  as  he  was. 


O  SHIM  A    GOES  A- FISHING.  21 J 

"Stevens!  "  exclamed  Larkin,  stooping  to  cut  the 
moorings.  Then  a  better  impulse  came  over  him. 
"Jump  in,  man!"  he  shouted.  "It  's  our  only 
chance  to  get  out  of  town,  if  that  's  what  you 
want!" 

Stevens  recoiled  at  the  sound  of  Fred's  voice, 
and  his  pursuers,  seeing  the  daring  reporter  standing 
over  the  fugitive  with  a  drawn  knife,  hesitated  a 
moment. 

"Get  in!  Get  in!"  reiterated  Fred,  seizing  the 
shaking  coward  by  the  collar  and  fairly  dragging 
him  over  the  side  of  the  wicker  basket.  "I  won't 
hurt  you!  " 

"  Wh-where  are  you  going  ?"  stammered  the  rene- 
gade, sinking  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  car. 

"We  '11  decide  that  point  later,"  said  Fred,  saw- 
ing away  at  the  rope.  "If  a  shell  hits  our  ship  be- 
fore we  've  cast  off,  we  shall  stay  right  here;  and 
from  the  looks  of  your  excited  friends  there,  the 
place  would  probably  prove  unhealthy  for — Ah! 
Here  we  go! " 

The  last  strand  parted  and  the  great  balloon 
soared  swiftly  above  the  town.  A  distant  Japanese 
artillerist  trained  his  gun  upon  it,  but  the  shot 
passed  below,  and  a  moment  later  the  air-ship  was 
out  of  range,  mounting  toward  the  clouds  and  swept 
by  a  strong  west  wind  directly  over  the  battle-field. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AMONG  THE  CLOUDS. 

AT  the  very  moment  when  the  adventurous  cor- 
respondent of  the  Boston  Daily  Bulletin  was 
making  his  escape  from  Liaoyang,  a  motley  crowd 
of  Koreans,  Chinese  coolies,  Japanese,  and  Euro- 
peans were  gathered  upon  the  platform  of  the  rail- 
way station  in  Chemulpo,  waiting  for  the  Seoul  train 
to  start.  Tidings  of  the  great  battle  had  reached 
the  port  and  the  announcement  of  the  decisive  vic- 
tory of  Japan,  and  the  evacuation  of  the  city  by  the 
Russians,  had  set  the  people  in  a  frenzy  of  delight, 
real  or  assumed. 

Distinguished  by  their  erect  bearing  and  bright 
naval  uniforms  two  young  men  pushed  their  way 
through  the  throng  and  took  their  places  in  a  first- 
class  carriage  on  the  train. 

"Whew!"  said  Bob  Starr,  pulling  off  his  cap  and 
wiping  his  forehead,  "this  is  about  as  hot  as  Key 
West  and  St.  Louis  rolled  into  one.  How  soon 
does  the  train  start,  Liddon? " 

"In  about  five  minutes,"  replied  the  dignified 
218 


AMONG    THE   CLOUDS.  2IQ 

young  officer  of  the  Osprey,  cool  and  calm  as  ever. 
"Don't  complain  of  the  heat,  brother,  until  you  've 
tramped  through  the  interior  of  Luzon  in  July." 

The  two  messmates  had  applied  for  and  obtained 
leave  to  run  up  to  Seoul  and  do  a  little  sight-seeing 
as  well  as  some  shopping.  It  was  believed  that  the 
ship  would  be  ordered  home  soon,  and  every  officer 
on  board  wanted  some  little  knick-knacks  from  the 
heart  of  Korea.  Bob  and  "Doc."  Liddon,  there- 
fore, had  half  a  dozen  commissions  to  execute  at 
the  capital,  as  well  as  their  own  purchases  to  make. 

"Now,"  said  the  midshipman,  leaning  back  in  his 
seat  by  the  open  window  as  the  train  began  to  move, 
"let  's  have  a  few  statistics  on  Korea,  old  man." 

"What  do  you  want  to  know  about  it,  youngster?" 
smiled  Liddon,  who  was  well  used  to  this  sort  of 
appeal. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  enough  about  the  place  to 
ask  questions,"  rejoined  his  companion  languidly. 
"What  is  there  interesting  about  it,  anyway?" 

"Well,  perhaps  the  most  interesting  feature  of 
the  history  of  this  country  has  been,  up  to  a  very 
recent  date,  its  exclusiveness, "  said  Liddon.  "You 
know  Korea  has  always  been  called  'The  Hermit 
Kingdom.'  ' 

"How  big  is  Korea,  anyway?"  interrupted 
Bob,  gazing  out  at  the  tawny  waters  of  the  river 
Hang-kang. 


22O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"Almost  exactly  the  size  of  Minnesota — or,  say, 
the  size  of  New  England,  New  Jersey,  and  Mary- 
land. With  the  sea  on  three  sides,  and  an  unin- 
habited wilderness  on  the  fourth,  this  independent 
little  affair  has  been  able  to  keep  out  foreigners,  up 
to  a  very  recent  day." 

"Independent?     I  thought  China " 

"Oh,  China  holds  a  sort  of  suzerainty  or  pro- 
tectorate over  Korea,  but  practically  it  has  governed 
itself.  The  King,  or  Sultan,  or  whatever  he  calls 
himself,  has  always  been  held  sacred — to  touch  him 
with  an  iron  weapon  was  sure  death.  Of  late  years 
foreign  merchants  have  gained  a  foothold  in  the 
country,  and  travellers  have  visited  it.  You  know 
Wiju,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Yalu,  was  declared  an 
open  port  only  last  February." 

"What  's  the  religion  hereabouts?  " 

"Mostly  Confucianism.  Catholic  missionaries 
have  made  a  tremendous  struggle  to  introduce 
Christianity,  and  their  history  has  been  a  long  series 
of  martyrdoms.  Why,  in  1866,  there  was  a  great 
massacre  of  native  Christians,  and  nearly  ten  thou- 
sand perished." 

"That  finished  the  matter,  I  suppose?" 

"Not  much.  There  are  supposed  to  be  at  least 
forty-five  thousand  Roman  Catholic  Christians  in 
Korea  to-day.  Just  what  will  become  of  them  if 
the  country  goes  to  Japan,  or  is  divided  up  among 


AMONG   THE   CLOUDS.  221 

the  big  Powers,  nobody  knows.  The  Koreans,  by 
the  way,  have  a  standing  army  of  seventeen  thou- 
sand men,  trained  and  drilled  by  European  officers." 

With  talk  of  this  sort,  and  various  other  statistics 
relating  to  the  FJermit  Kingdom,  time  passed 
rapidly,  and  the  learned  young  ensign  was  still 
lecturing  when  the  train  rolled  into  the  station  at 
Seoul. 

The  two  officers  strolled  up  the  shady  side  of  the 
main  street,  and  soon  espied  some  curios  from 
which  they  determined  to  select  mementos  of  this 
strange  city. 

"We  ought  to  have  some  change,"  said  Bob. 
"I  've  nothing  but  English  gold.  Suppose  I  get 
this  shopkeeper  to  give  me  Korean  money  for  half 
a  dozen  sovereigns? " 

"All  right,"  agreed  Liddon,  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye  which  the  other  did  not  see.  "He  '11  be  glad  to 
have  the  gold,  no  doubt,  and  will  cheat  you  a  little, 
but  that  won't  matter." 

"How  can  I  make  him  understand  what  I  want?  " 
queried  the  midshipman,  standing  before  the  Korean 
helplessly,  with  the  money  in  his  hand. 

"I  guess  I  can  arrange  it,"  said  Doc.  Liddon 
gravely.  "I  happen  to  know  the  word  for  small 
change  in  this  country.  Hulloa,  you!  Sapeke  !  " 
The  ensign  held  out  the  gold  as  he  spoke,  and  let  it 
clink 


222  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  man  nodded  twenty  times,  repeating  " Sa- 
peke  !  Sapeke  ! '"  and  calling  three  or  four  coolies, 
gave  them  an  order,  despatching  them  in  different 
directions.  Then  he  gently  drew  out  the  Ameri- 
can's watch,  and  pointing  to  the  open  face,  held 
out  five  fingers. 

"That  means  he  '11  have  the  change  ready  in  five 
minutes,"  I  suppose,"  said  Liddon. 

"Of  course,  just  as  they  'd  do  at  home.  Sent 
round  to  the  bank  for  it,  probably.  Let  's  walk  on 
a  bit,  and  come  back  here  when  the  time  's  up." 

They  indicated  on  the  watch  what  their  plans 
were,  and  with  many  smiles  and  nods  and  amiable 
gestures  on  both  sides  the  officers  proceeded  on 
their  way. 

There  was  not  much  to  see  in  Seoul,  after  all. 
The  buildings  were  for  the  most  part  miserable  little 
one-story  affairs,  built  of  wood,  clay,  and  rice-straw. 
Some  of  the  meanest  dwellings  were  thatched,  but 
in  general  this  primitive  protection  had  given  place 
to  tiles  placed  in  rows  along  the  joints  of  the  boards 
forming  the  roof. 

"Let's  go  back  and  get  our  pocketful  of  change," 
remarked  Starr.  "Then  we  '11  call  on  the  minister, 
hurry  up  our  shopping,  and  get  back  to  the  ship. 
It  's  too  hot  to  linger  in  this  proud  capital  all  day. 
I  never  was  cut  out  for  a  hermit,  anyway." 

On  the  way  back  the  queer  expression  returned 


AMONG   THE   CLOUDS.  22$ 

to  Liddon's  face,  but  he  said  nothing  until  they 
reached  the  shop.  Then  he  gave  one  look  at  Bob's 
countenance  and  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

Bob  was  speechless.  There  on  the  floor  lay  his 
change,  surrounded  by  perspiring  coolies.  It  con- 
sisted of  about  ten  bushels  of  copper  coins,  each 
punched  in  the  middle  and  strung  on  a  wire.  The 
four  labourers  must  have  worked  hard  to  get  it  there 
within  the  allotted  time. 

"Well,  this  beats  me!"  exclaimed  the  midship- 
man at  length.  "Is  this  all  mine?  " 

"Every  sapeke  of  it,"  said  Liddon  gleefully. 
"Put  it  in  your  pocket  and  jog  along,  son!  " 

Fortunately  an  interpreter,  attracted  by  the  naval 
uniforms,  happened  to  be  near,  and  with  much  diffi- 
culty the  shopkeeper  was  made  to  understand  that 
but  a  small  portion  of  the  mountain  of  "cash" 
would  be  needed.  Purchases  were  made,  at  exorbi- 
tant prices ;  a  pound  or  two  of  the  coins  preserved 
for  keepsakes,  and  the  visitors  departed. 

"For  fifteen  minutes  I  've  felt  like  Rockefeller," 
said  Bob  sadly.  "I  never  shall  have  so  much  money 
again.  It  's  a  dream  !  " 

"When  a  fellow  tells  his  very  best  girl,  in  Seoul, 
that  she  's  worth  her  weight  in  specie,  it  is  n't  much 
of  a  compliment,  eh,  Bob? "  laughed  Liddon. 

"Equivalent  to  valuing  her  at  about  thirty  cents, 
I  suppose,"  sighed  the  disconsolate  midshipman. 


224  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"What  a  copper  mine  this  place  is!  It  beats 
Helena,  Montana,  all  out!  "  * 

They  paid  their  visit  of  respect  to  the  American 
minister,  who  insisted  on  their  lunching  with  him, 
and  laughed  heartily  over  Bob's  financial  experience. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  the  officers  returned  to  Seoul 
by  train,  and  were  glad  enough  to  reach  the  deck  of 
the  Osprey,  fanned  by  the  cool  breezes  of  the  Yellow 
Sea. 

As  they  distributed  the  gifts  they  had  brought, 
and  recounted  their  adventures  in  the  Korean 
capital,  while  Dave,  Staples,  and  Dobson  shouted 
at  the  midshipman's  woful  face  when  the  "tempo- 
rary Rockefeller  "  was  described,  they  little  guessed 
what  was  befalling  their  old  friend  the  war  corre- 
spondent, whom  we  left  in  company  with  the  rene- 
gade Stevens,  running  away  with  one  of  General 
Kouropatkin's  war  balloons. 

Larkin's  first  movement,  as  they  rose  above  the 
roofs  of  Liaoyang,  was  to  throw  out  a  whole  bagful 
of  ballast,  with  plenty  of  which  the  air-ship  was 
fortunately  stocked.  The  two  men  crouched  low  in 

*  Since  this  paragraph  was  written  a  despatch  in  the  daily  press  of 
the  United  States  has  announced  that  a  short  time  ago  a  syndicate 
of  American  capitalists  was  formed  to  buy  up  the  "cash"  used  by 
the  natives  of  China,  and  sell  it  for  the  pure  copper  used  in  the 
coins.  In  this  way  enormous  profits  have  been  made,  it  is  said,  by 
the  promoters  of  the  scheme,  and  the  larger  cities  of  the  Empire 
have  been  almost  stripped  of  small  change. 


AMONG    THE   CLOUDS.  22$ 

the  basket  to  avoid  stray  bullets  from  the  victorious 
Japanese  army,  and  in  ten  minutes  they  were  out 
of  all  danger  from  that  source.  Fred  had  made 
more  than  one  ascension,  in  a  professional  capacity, 
from  Boston  Common,  and  felt  quite  at  ease  as  the 
swelling  bag  above  his  head  bore  him  farther  and 
farther  from  the  scene  of  the  late  battle.  Not  so 
Stevens.  He  continued  to  crouch  in  the  bottom  of 
the  wicker  car,  and  his  teeth  fairly  chattered  with 
fright. 

"Come,  come,  old  chap,"  said  Larkin  cheerfully, 
"we  're  all  right  now.  It  's  only  a  question  of 
making  a  safe  landing  somewhere  in  the  rear  of  the 
Jap  army.  I  'm  sorry  to  leave  my  friends  the  Mus- 
covites, but  needs  must  when  the  wind  drives.  I 
wish  the  inventors  would  hurry  up  with  their  dirigi- 
ble balloons!  Sit  up,  man,  and  take  in  this  view. 
You  may  never  have  such  a  chance  again." 

The  panorama  spread  out  beneath  them  was  in- 
deed a  wonderful  one.  The  wind,  following  the 
direction  of  the  mountain  range,  was  now  sweeping 
them  rather  to  the  south  than  to  the  east,  and  at  a 
height  of  about  a  mile  the  balloon  passed  swiftly 
over  lower  Manchuria  with  its  fair  streams,  valleys 
and  cornfields.  Here  and  there  a  blur  of  smoke  in- 
dicated a  military  encampment,  and  long  trains  of 
waggons  could  be  made  out,  conveying  stores  to  the 
front  or  wounded  men  toward  the  sea.  The  earth 


226  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

presented  the  odd  appearance  of  a  shallow  cup, 
rather  than  of  a  convex  surface.  Now  and  then 
the  landscape  was  blotted  out  by  a  low-lying  cloud 
which,  travelling  in  a  different  current,  was  quickly 
left  behnd.  Once  or  twice,  from  a  cottony  puff  of 
smoke,  Larkin  guessed  that  his  big  aerial  craft  was 
a  target  for  Japanese  riflemen ;  but  no  bullet  came 
near  to  corroborate  his  surmise. 

Stevens,  meanwhile,  recovered  nerve  enough  to 
sit  upright  and  peer  once  or  twice  over  the  edge  of 
the  car ;  but  each  time  he  sank  back  with  a  shudder. 

"I  always  was  giddy  in  high  places,"  he  muttered, 
resuming  his  former  abject  attitude. 

Larkin  glanced  at  the  pallid  face,  and  felt  a  touch 
of  pity  for  the  miserable  fellow. 

"No  wonder  the  navy  did  n't  suit  you,"  he  said. 
"You  look  half  sick,  Stevens.  Anything  special  the 
matter  with  you?  Hungry?  " 

"No,"  said  the  other,  his  teeth  chattering  again. 
"I  don't  want  anything  to  eat.  I  have  n't  been 
well  lately.  Those  men  who  were  after  me — "  He 
stopped  abruptly  and  turned  so  white  that  Fred 
thought  he  was  going  to  faint.  Recovering  himself 
with  an  effort,  Stevens  continued:  "This  balloon 
business  is  getting  on  to  my  nerves,  I  guess.  Is  n't 
it  about  time  to  think  of  landing? " 

"Landing!  "  exclaimed  the  other.  "Not  by  any 
means.  We  must  put  a  little  more  real  estate  be- 


AMONG   THE    CLOUDS.  22/ 

tween  us  and  Oyama's  front  before  we  get  down  to 
terra  firma.  But  we  're  going  like  an  express  train 
now,  unless  I  am  mistaken.  It  's  hard  to  judge  our 
speed,  because  we  're  just  drifting  with  the  current. 
I  can't  say  I  like  so  much  southing,  either.  As 
near  as  I  can  tell,  we  're  just  about  following  the 
line  of  the  railway.  See — there  it  is — that  long 
straight  line!  " 

But  Stevens  did  not  care  to  look. 

"Why  were  those  fellows  chasing  you,  if  I  may 
ask?"  demanded  the  reporter,  settling  himself  to 
a  comfortable  position  in  the  car. 

"They — I  don't  know— well,"  said  Stevens  des- 
perately, "if  you  must  know,  they  were  Boxers." 

Larkin  started.  "What,  the  society  that  started 
the  trouble  with  the  missionaries  two  or  three  years 
ago,  and  pretty  nearly  did  up  the  foreign  embassies 
in  Pekin  ? ' ' 

The  renegade  nodded.  "I  had  time  on  my 
hands,"  he  muttered,  "and — and  interested  myself 
in  their  private  matters.  I  meant  to  have  made  a 
good  thing  of  it  in  Pekin." 

"I  see,"  said  Fred,  looking  at  his  companion 
with  unmitigated  disgust.  "At  your  old  tricks,  of 
course.  I  'm  not  sure  that  I  would  n't  have  started 
without  you,  if  I  had  known." 

"Then  it  's  fortunate  for  me  that  you  did  n't," 
said  the  spy,  with  a  sardonic  grin,  "Don't  let  's 


228  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

quarrel,  Larkin.  You  've  saved  my  life,  and  I  won't 
forget  it.  It  was  a  shabby  trick  I  played  you,  in  Port 
Arthur,  but  I  really  did  n't  mean  you  any  harm. 
All  I  wanted  was  time  to  get  out  of  the  city." 

"All  right,"  said  Fred  lightly.  "I  'm  not  a  man 
to  hold  a  grudge;  but  I  would  n't  try  any  more 
tricks  of  the  sort,  my  lad.  They  get  tiresome,  after 
a  while.  Look  here,  I  'm  hungry,  and  we  have  n't 
investigated  the  commissary  department  of  the 
balloon  corps.  Here  goes!  " 

Dipping  into  a  pile  of  packages  at  the  bottom  of 
the  car,  he  brought  up  several  cans  of  condensed 
beef  and  some  hard  biscuit,  which  had  evidently 
been  abandoned  in  the  hurried  flight  from  Liaoyang. 
There  were  also  a  couple  of  bottles  of  vodka,  or 
Russian  whiskey,  upon  which  Stevens  seized  eagerly. 
Larkin,  however,  wrested  them  from  his  grasp  and 
threw  them  overboard. 

"I  hope  they  won't  do  any  damage  when  they 
strike,"  he  said,  but  they  certainly  won't  do  any  in 
this  ship,  while  I  'm  captain.  No  vodka  for  you, 
my  friend.  What  's  this — Limonade  gazenze — ah, 
that  fills  the  bill !  Bottled  lemonade,  straight  from 
Paris — two  pints  for  each  of  us.  Have  some?" 
And  he  opened  a  can  of  beef  and  passed  over  a 
bottle  of  lemonade. 

Stevens  scowled,  but  accepted  the  situation,  and 
the  two  made  a  hearty  breakfast. 


AMONG    THE   CLOUDS.  22Q 

They  had  just  flung  over  the  empty  can  and 
bottles  when  they  heard  the  report  of  a  musket. 

"I  don't  like  it!"  shouted  Fred,  springing  up  so 
quickly  that  the  basket  rocked,  and  the  spy  turned 
pale  again.  "While  we  were  eating  we  've  been 
dropping,  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know  why,  unless 
there  's  a  rip  somewhere  aloft.  We  are  n't  more 
than  a  thousand  yards  up,  and  they  're  taking  pot 
shots  at  us  from  a  Jap  encampment.  Out  goes 
some  more  ballast!  " 

He  suited  the  word  by  emptying  a  bag  of  sand, 
and  the  balloon  rose  at  once,  as  he  ascertained  by 
throwing  out  a  few  scraps  of  paper,  which  seemed 
to  drop  like  lead. 

One  or  two  more  shots  were  fired,  but  the  balloon 
quickly  swept  out  of  range,  as  before.  The  aero- 
nauts had  not  gone  far,  however,  when  it  became 
evident  that  they  were  again  slowly  sinking. 

"I  don't  like  it,"  said  Fred,  shaking  his  head  as 
he  threw  out  another  sand-bag.  "Some  of  these 
bullets  have  punctured  the  old  bag  aloft,  as  sure  as 
you  live." 

"I  thought  you  said  you  meant  to  land  some- 
where in  the  rear  of  the  main  Japanese  lines!  "  ex- 
claimed Stevens  apprehensively.  "What  's  the  use 
of  keeping  up  so  high?  " 

"What  I  really  want  now  is  steam  enough  to 
take  us  right  across  the  gulf  to  Chefoo,"  answered 


230  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

the  other.  "We  're  heading  straight  for  it,"  he 
added,  consulting  a  small  compass  that  dangled  from 
his  watch-guard.  ' '  If  we  can  fetch  that  port  there  '11 
be  no  more  trouble.  But  I  don't  like  this  sinking. 
It  looks  as  if  we  had  sprung  a  leak  somewhere,  and, 
don't  you  see,  man?  there  's  only  one  bag  of  ballast 
left!" 

In  the  course  of  an  hour  they  had  descended  to 
within  a  few  hundred  feet  of  the  ground,  and  Fred 
reluctantly  parted  with  the  last  pound  of  sand. 
The  sea  could  now  be  plainly  discerned,  to  the 
southward. 

"Look — there  are  two  of  Togo's  ships!"  ex- 
claimed Larkin.  "Oh,  what  a  sight !  Don't  I  wish 
I  had  a  good  kodak !  " 

Again  the  balloon  dropped,  and  Fred  flung  out 
every  movable  object  in  the  car.  They  shot  up  a 
thousand  feet,  but  the  relief  was  of  short  duration. 

"O  for  a  couple  of  hundred- weight  of  ballast!" 
groaned  Fred.  "Or  a  gale  of  wind  to  take  us  over 
the  water!" 

Once  more  the  balloon  gently  descended.  The 
breeze  seemed  to  be  dying  out.  They  were  now 
directly  over  the  outworks  of  the  Japanese  forces 
besieging  Port  Arthur. 

Bang!  bang!  rang  out  the  guns,  far  below.  The 
great  gas-bag  quivered  and  began  to  drop  faster. 

"They  've  hit  us  again !  "  said  Fred.     "We  're  in 


THE   END  OF  THE  TRAITOR. 


AMONG   THE   CLOUDS.  2$l 

for  it  now.  The  question  is,  whether  we  shall  get 
as  far  as  the  town.  Somehow  I  don't  fancy  drop- 
ping down  on  our  brown  friends  there,  they  're  so 
handy  with  their  rifles.  Let  's  see  what  effect  our 
ensign  will  have  on  them !  " 

He  unrolled  the  Japanese  flag  he  had  caught  up 
in  running  through  the  streets  of  Liaoyang,  and  dis- 
played it  as  prominently  as  possible;  but  this  only 
seemed  to  exasperate  their  assailants,  who  now  were 
keeping  up  a  regular  fusilade. 

Suddenly  Stevens  gave  a  scream.  "I  'm  hit! 
I  'm  hit!"  he  shrieked,  clasping  his  hand  to  his 
breast.  Springing  to  his  feet,  he  tottered,  and  be- 
fore Fred  could  seize  his  unfortunate  companion  the 
spy  lost  his  balance  and  fell  backward  over  the  side 
of  the  car. 

Lightened  of  his  weight  the  balloon  made  one 
more  leap  toward  the  clouds,  crossed  the  outer 
trenches  and  forts  of  Port  Arthur,  and  with  a  grace- 
ful sweep  descended  in  the  heart  of  the  city.  A 
hundred  hands  seized  the  wicker  car  and  the  rope, 
and  Fred  Larkin,  still  shocked  and  benumbed  by 
the  terrible  fate  that  had  overtaken  his  comrade, 
mechanically  climbed  out  and  stood,  half-dazed,  on 
the  pavements  of  the  very  square  where  he  had 
met  Stevens  three  months  before. 

A  babel  of  voices  greeted  him,  but  before  he 
could  explain  his  involuntary  descent  the  Japanese 


232  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

flag  caught  the  eye  of  an  officer  who  had  joined  the 
crowd,  and  the  reporter  was  roughly  seized,  blind- 
folded, and  hurried  away  to  a  prison  cell. 

Early  in  the  evening  he  was  visited  by  two  or 
three  officials  of  rank,  who  had  him  searched  and 
even  stripped,  for  evidence  of  guilt.  "Ameri- 
kansky,"  said  Fred,  over  and  over,  seemingly  with- 
out effect. 

The  next  morning,  however,  he  was  told  that  he 
was  to  be  taken  before  General  Stoessel,  who  would 
judge  his  case.  The  tones  of  the  officer  making 
this  announcement  were  much  more  bland  than  on 
the  preceding  evening,  and  the  prisoner  was  given  a 
good  breakfast  before  taking  up  the  march,  blind- 
folded, across  the  city. 

The  walk  itself  seemed  interminable.  Down  one 
hill  and  up  another,  along  street  after  street,  stum- 
bling over  rough  pavements,  with  the  roar  of  can- 
non constantly  in  his  ears,  and  an  unpleasant 
consciousness  that  a  shell  might  fall  in  his  imme- 
diate vicinity  at  any  time,  Fred  was  conducted  into 
the  great  man's  presence. 

General  Stoessel  recognised  him  at  once,  and 
asked  a  good  many  questions,  all  of  which  Larkin 
answered  promptly  and  fully,  except  those  pertain- 
ing to  the  Japanese  forces  and  defences. 

"Look  here,  General,"  he  said,  "I  've  been  called 
a  spy  more  than  once  since  I  landed  in  your  town. 


AMONG    THE    CLOUDS.  233 

Now  if  I  tell  you  all  I  know  about  the  Japanese, 
you  will  have  good  reason  to  believe  that  I  shall 
carry  information  to  them,  on  leaving  Port  Arthur, 
concerning  the  Russians.  This  would  fairly  rank 
me  as  the  mean  thing  I  have  been  called — a  spy. 
Not  a  word  do  you  get  from  me,  sir,  regarding  the 
Japs." 

"But  what  if  you  never  leave  Port  Arthur?  Why 
shall  I  not  order  you  hung  at  once? " 

"Because,  General  Stoessel,"  said  Fred  Larkin, 
calmly,  "I  am  an  American  citizen,  innocent  of  any 
offence  against  your  country ;  a  journalist,  pursuing 
his  profession,  and  representing  a  friendly  nation." 

The  bluff  soldier  gnawed  his  moustache.  "You 
shall  not  stay  here,"  he  said  with  decision.  "I  do 
not  want  any  newspaper  men  in  Port  Arthur." 

"I  'm  ready  to  go,"  said  Fred,  "the  moment  you 
open  the  door.  My  arrival  was  unintentional, 
and " 

"Restore  his  papers,  and  send  him  to  Chefoo," 
said  the  General,  rising. 

"How  shall  I  go,  General?"  asked  Fred. 

"In  a  junk.  You  must  take  your  chances  of  safe 
arrival.  And  mind,  sir,  you  must  not  come  here 
again.  Twice  is  enough !" 

' '  I  certainly  will  not, ' '  said  Fred,  "  if  I  can  help  it. " 

General  Stoessel  asked  a  few  more  questions  con- 
cerning the  reporter's  escape  from  Liaoyang. 


234  "THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"It  was  like  a  crazy  American,"  he  said,  more 
good-humouredly.  Then  he  shook  hands  with  Fred. 
"I  hope  you  will  have  a  safe  voyage  to  Chefoo. 
Farewell!" 

With  the  same  precautions  against  the  corre- 
spondent's discovering  anything  of  value  to  report 
outside  the  walls,  he  was  led  back  across  the  city  and 
the  next  morning  he  left  Port  Arthur  in  a  droschka, 
or  light  road-waggon,  and  —  still  blindfolded  —  was 
driven  to  a  plain  near  Loisa  Bay.  At  this  point 
the  bandage  was  removed  from  his  eyes  and  he 
scrambled  down  a  hilly  path  to  the  shore,  where  he 
was  locked  up  in  a  small  stone  hut  until  late  in  the 
afternoon,  when  —  blindfolded  again  —  he  was  led 
over  the  beach  to  a  sampan  and  taken  off  to  a  junk, 
one  of  three  which  were  getting  under  way — a  huge, 
dirty  craft,  like  that  in  which  he  had  sailed  on  his 
outward  trip. 

A  Russian  naval  officer  and  boat  crew  accom- 
panied him  to  the  outer  roads,  where  they  said 
good-bye,  entered  their  own  boat  and  returned  to 
the  city.  Fred  noticed,  the  bandage  having  now 
been  finally  removed,  that  the  Czarevitch,  Retvizan, 
and  some  other  damaged  ships  had  been  patched  up 
and  were  changing  anchorage  under  their  own 
steam. 

The  next  morning  the  daring  reporter  once  more 
set  foot  on  the  dock  at  Cheefoo. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

THE   DOGGER   BANK  AFFAIR. 

IN  the  middle  of  September  the  following  startling 
despatch  appeared  in  the  newspapers  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic : 

"ABERDEEN,  SCOTLAND,  Sept.  16.— A  passenger 
who  arrived  to-day  on  board  a  coasting  steamship 
reports  that  two  Japanese  officers  and  nine  sailors 
came  on  board  the  vessel  from  London. 

"As  soon  as  she  arrived  at  Aberdeen  they  jumped 
into  a  small  boat  and  proceeded  at  once  to  a  mys- 
terious low-lying  craft  in  the  offing,  apparently  a 
torpedo-boat,  which,  on  receiving  the  men,  steamed 
seaward. 

"It  is  believed  here  that  the  intention  of  the 
Japanese  is  to  lie  in  wait  for  the  Baltic  fleet." 

In  order  to  understand  what  Oto  Owari  and  a 
brother  officer  were  doing  in  the  North  Sea  at  the 
time  when  the  Associated  Press  gave  out  this  start- 
ling piece  of  news,  we  must  return  to  the  day  when 

235 


236  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

the  battle-ship  Petropavlovsk  "turned  turtle  "  in  the 
bay  of  Korea,  and,  attacked  by  some  mysterious 
agency  which  was  generally  supposed  to  be  either  a 
Russian  or  Japanese  submerged  contact-mine,  sank 
with  nearly  every  soul  on  board. 

The  Octopus,  which  had  made  its  way  under  cover 
of  the  darkness  of  the  preceding  night  to  the  west- 
ern extremity  of  the  Yellow  Sea,  and  was  lying  in 
wait  for  its  huge  adversary,  had  remained  awash 
until  daylight.  Then,  closing  the  main  hatch,  she 
sank  until  only  the  end  of  the  camera  projected 
above  water.  This  easily  escaped  observation, 
looking,  as  it  did,  like  a  bit  of  floating  wreckage. 
According  to  directions  from  his  admiral,  Oto  made 
no  move  to  attack  the  Russian  ships  when  they 
were  coaxed  out  of  their  safe  harbour  by  the  wily 
Japanese,  it  being  deemed  best  not  to  risk  a  hasty 
assault  at  a  time  when  the  enemy  were  fully  alert 
and  in  the  best  condition.  In  case  their  squadron 
should  escape  from  the  Japanese  force  outside — 
vastly  superior  to  the  Russians — and  should  retreat 
towards  Port  Arthur,  then  the  Octopus  was  to  strike 
its  blow,  quickly  and  decisively. 

The  result  is  known,  although  naval  authorities 
still  dispute  as  to  the  cause  of  the  Petropavlovsk' s 
destruction.  Oto,  conning  the  Octopus  through  the 
camera,  observed  the  battle-ship  returning  to  port 
after  the  brief  conflict  in  the  open  sea.  He  touched 


THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR.  237 

an  electric  knob  and  the  submarine  quietly  sank  to 
a  further  depth  of  six  feet.  Being  now  entirely  out 
of  sight,  the  terrible  war-engine  approached  without 
difficulty  to  within  less  than  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
Russian  ship,  discharged  her  torpedo  with  unerring 
aim,  and  accomplished  her  work.  The  waters  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  huge  victim  were  vio- 
lently agitated  as  she  careened  in  her  dying  agony, 
and  the  Octopus  herself,  lingering  near  to  inflict  an- 
other blow  if  necessary,  was  in  danger  of  being 
drawn  into  the  vortex  made  by  the  battle-ship  as 
she  went  down.  The  little  submarine  reversed  her 
engine  quickly  enough,  however,  to  escape  sharing 
the  fate  of  her  prey,  and  swiftly  glided  away  to  re- 
join the  Japanese  fleet.  The  agent  of  destruction, 
known  only  to  the  admiral  and  the  heads  of  the  War 
Office,  was  not  disclosed  in  Tokio,  as  it  was  deemed 
best  that  the  Russian  Admiralty  and  the  world  at 
large  should  know  nothing  of  the  terrible  power 
Japan  was  wielding  beneath  the  waves. 

Oto  remained  on  duty  in  command  of  the  Octopus 
for  several  weeks  longer,  and  was  then  detached  for 
a  more  complicated  task,  one  requiring  an  extraor- 
dinary exercise  of  intelligence  and  adaptability,  as 
well  as  courage. 

It  was  known  that  the  Russians  were  preparing  a 
formidable  fleet  at  home,  to  take  the  place  of  the 
war-ships  that  had  been  put  out  of  action  in 


238  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

East,  and  to  establish  the  Muscovite  power  upon 
the  seas.  If  this  could  be  done,  it  was  conceded 
in  military  circles  that  Japan's  fate  would  be 
sealed.  With  her  immense  army  cut  off  from  sup- 
plies and  from  retreat,  the  Russian  ships  could 
ravage  the  coast  of  the  Island  Kingdom,  and  the 
army  in  Manchuria  would  be  compelled  to  come  to 
terms.  It  was  all- important  to  prevent  the  sailing 
of  the  Baltic  fleet  if  possible,  or  to  damage  it  after 
it  had  started  on  its  long  voyage. 

The  Russian  secret-service  system  has  often  been 
called  the  most  effective  and  far-reaching  in  exist- 
ence; but  the  Japanese  have  learned  the  methods 
of  their  huge  neighbour,  and  with  Oriental  wit  and 
alertness  have  surpassed  their  teacher.  At  about 
this  time  several  accidents  happened  in  the  Russian 
navy  yards  at  the  head  of  the  Baltic.  One  ship 
suddenly  sank  at  her  moorings ;  another  was  severely 
damaged  by  an  inexplicable  explosion  ;  other  strange 
mishaps  befel  the  newly  organised  fleet  before  they 
left  their  moorings.  Everybody  read  in  the  news- 
papers the  reports  of  these  "accidents,"  and  every- 
body was  puzzled  to  account  for  them — everybody, 
except  the  authorities  at  Tokio ! 

In  spite  of  every  hindrance  and  disaster  it  became 
evident  that  the  fleet  was  nearly  ready  to  sail,  fully 
equipped  and  manned  for  the  long  cruise  which  was 
to  terminate,  according  to  general  expectation,  in 


THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR.  239 

the  greatest  naval  battle  the  world  had  ever  seen, 
should  the  fleet  reach  Eastern  waters. 

Taking  a  swift  liner  across  the  Pacific,  Oto,  with 
ten  picked  men  of  the  Japanese  navy,  arrived  at 
Vancouver  on  the-ist  day  of  September.  The 
Canadian  Pacific,  Grand  Trunk,  and  New  York 
Central  railways  landed  the  party  in  New  York  on 
the  /th;  one  week  later  they  were  in  London. 
Here  they  took  a  small  steamer  on  a  local  line, 
reaching  Aberdeen  on  the  i$th.  On  reaching  shore 
the  men,  most  of  whom  were  dressed  as  common 
sailors  in  the  merchant  service,  scattered  among  the 
water-side  boarding-houses,  and,  in  a  city  where 
seamen  of  every  nationality  are  an  every-day  sight, 
excited  little  notice  or  comment. 

Oto  himself,  having  first  consulted  his  note-book, 
repaired  to  a  shop  on  an  obscure  street  where  tea, 
carvings,  and  cheap  Japanese  curios  were  sold.  The 
shopkeeper  eyed  him  sharply,  glanced  at  a  slip  of 
rice-paper  which  Oto  presented,  then  made  a  low 
obeisance  to  the  visitor,  and  having  locked  the  outer 
door  of  his  shop  and  lowered  the  shades,  led  the 
way  to  a  narrow  and  steep  stairway,  murmuring  in 
his  own  language:  "I  break  my  bones  to  Your  Ex- 
cellency. Be  honourably  pleased  to  mount  your 
servant's  despicable  stairway  to  the  private  office." 

What  communications  passed  in  that  office  cannot 
be  known  with  certainty.  Oto,  however,  received 


240  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

from  his  countryman  several  despatches,  and  en- 
trusted to  him  a  return  message  of  utmost  import- 
ance. On  the  following  day  the  nine  Japanese  met 
at  the  wharves  by  appointment.  A  boat  was  await- 
ing them,  manned  by  a  crew  of  the  same  nationality. 
In  the  offing  the  boat  was  taken  up  by  a  small, 
rakish-looking  black  steamer  which  some  observers 
declared  to  be  a  torpedo-boat,  others  a  "trawler," 
as  the  ships  of  the  fishing-fleet  were  called.  What- 
ever its  nature,  the  craft  had  heels,  for,  with  black 
smoke  pouring  from  her  short  funnel,  she  soon  dis- 
appeared to  the  northward.  There  were  those  who 
averred  that  they  had  plainly  seen  the  English  en- 
sign flying  over  her  taffrail. 

Not  to  make  a  further  mystery  of  this  odd  little 
vessel,  it  may  be  stated  at  once  that  she  was  no 
other  than  the  Kiku,  or  "Chrysanthemum";  the 
same  small  war-ship  which  had  hailed  the  Osprey  in 
mid-ocean  in  her  outward  voyage,  and  had  received 
and  restored  by  a  piece  of  incomparable  naval  dex- 
terity the  cabin  steward  of  the  gunboat. 

The  Kiku  was  a  combination  of  torpedo-boat  and 
destroyer;  that  is  she  was  a  small,  swift  steamer, 
fitted  with  both  torpedo-tubes  and  three-inch  rifled 
guns.  Her  efficiency  in  attack  would  depend  largely 
on  her  speed,  which  was  not  less  than  twenty-six 
knots  an  hour,  under  forced  pressure.  For  this 
reason,  too,  she  was  used  as  a  despatch-boat. 


THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR.  241 

During  the  first  six  months  of  the  war  she  was 
coaled  and  provisioned  at  obscure  ports,  often  mak- 
ing long  runs  to  escape  observation. 

In  the  weeks  that  followed  Oto's  embarkation, 
the  Kiku's  appearance  was  changed  in  several  im- 
portant particulars.  She  now  might  easily  have 
passed  for  one  of  the  trawling  fleet  that  were  familiar 
to  every  sailor  in  the  North  Sea.  Her  torpedo- 
tubes  were  concealed  by  canvas  shields,  painted 
black  and  so  arranged  that  they  could  be  easily 
drawn  aside  in  action.  Her  guns  were  rigged  out 
of  sight,  and  port-holes  closed  so  cleverly  that  only 
a  trained  eye  would  discover  them,  and  that  in 
broad  daylight.  At  night  the  Kiku  was  an  innocent 
fishing  steamer,  pursuing  her  honest  avocation 
under  the  protection  of  Great  Britain. 

The  sailing  of  the  Baltic  fleet  had  been  again  and 
again  announced,  and  as  often  postponed.  Vice- 
Admiral  Rojestvensky  knew  that  he  was  surrounded 
by  spies,  and  more  than  half  guessed  that  danger 
was  awaiting  him  when  once  the  home  sea  should 
have  been  left  behind.  At  length,  on  the  2ist  of 
October,  the  great  battle-ships  and  cruisers  weighed 
anchor  in  earnest  and  started  for  Port  Arthur.  If 
that  stronghold  was  to  be  saved,  the  relieving  force 
could  no  longer  be  delayed.  The  Japanese  were 
tightening  their  grip  daily,  and  with  an  enormous 
sacrifice  of  life  were  taking  position  after  position. 

16 


242  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Kouropatkin  had  made  a  vain  attempt  to  march 
southward  and  succour  the  beleaguered  fortress,  and 
had  been  beaten  back.  Relief  could  only  come  by 
sea.  It  was  believed  at  St.  Petersburg  that  Stoessel 
could  hold  out  until  February,  when  Rojestvensky's 
fleet  would  be  at  hand  to  effect  a  diversion  and  open 
the  harbour. 

Slowly  and  majestically  the  ponderous  ships 
moved  onward,  the  lookouts,  doubled  in  number, 
watching  every  suspicious-looking  craft,  the  officers 
scanning  the  sea,  from  the  bridges,  with  powerful 
marine  glasses.  Just  after  sunset  the  fleet  entered 
the  North  Sea  and  turned  their  massive  prows  to- 
ward the  south. 

Between  latitude  54°  10'  and  57°  24'  North,  and 
longitude  i°  and  6°  f  East  (from  Greenwich),  a 
huge  sand-bank  lies  under  the  waters  of  the  North 
Sea,  midway  between  England  and  Denmark.  It 
is  called  the  Dogger  Bank,  and  affords  extensive 
fishing-grounds  which  are  frequented  by  all  sorts  of 
craft,  from  a  wherry  to  a  thousand-ton  steamer. 
Here  the  Hull  fleet  set  their  trawls,  and,  with  lights 
twinkling  from  bow  and  mast-head,  toss  and  swing 
at  their  anchors  through  the  long  hours  of  the  night. 
Every  pilot  in  the  United  Kingdom,  and  on  the 
coasts  of  the  adjacent  European  states,  knows  of 
these  trawlers  and  plots  his  course  to  avoid  them  in 
crossing  the  North  Sea.  The  admiral  of  the  Baltic 


THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR.  243 

fleet  either  forgot  them  entirely,  or  recklessly  took 
the  risk  of  their  lying  in  the  path  of  his  heavier  ships. 

As  the  night — an  unusually  dark  one — of  October 
2 ist  closed  in,  the  Hull  fishermen  were  anchored  as 
usual  over  the  Dogger  Bank.  There  were  half  a 
dozen  or  more  of  them,  and  before  midnight  their 
number  was  increased  by  one — a  low,  black  hull  like 
their  own,  which  brought  up  just  north  of  the  main 
group  without  attracting  attention. 

The  lights  of  the  Kiku — for  the  newcomer  was 
no  other  than  the  disguised  destroyer — were  made 
to  conform  exactly  to  those  displayed  by  the  trawlers. 
No  one  could  have  taken  her  for  a  war-ship,  with  her 
big  fourteen-foot  Whitehead  torpedoes  waiting  to 
be  unleashed  behind  their  canvas  tompions. 

Far  away  to  the  northward  a  light  twinkled  in  the 
darkness;  another,  and  another. 

"Slip  the  cable,"  ordered  Oto  quietly,  not  daring 
to  recover  his  anchor  lest  the  noise  of  the  chain  and 
pawls  should  be  heard.  "Clear  decks  for  action!  " 

A  low  hum  of  voices  sounded  through  the  ship. 
Bare  feet  pattered  to  and  fro  as  the  decks  were 
cleared,  the  guns  were  run  out,  screens  removed, 
and  ammunition  hoisted.  All  this  had  been  done 
in  repeated  drill  until  the  men  knew  exactly  where 
to  place  their  hands  in  the  dim  light  afforded  by 
carefully  shielded  lanterns. 

' '  Cast  loose  and  provide !  "     "  Load ! ' ' 


244  THE   NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  orders  were  in  a  strange  tongue,  but  varied 
little  from  those  taught  at  the  Annapolis  Academy. 
Like  some  black  kraken  of  old,  crouching  for  a 
spring  at  its  approaching  prey,  the  Kiku  silently 
awaited  the  approach  of  the  Baltic  war-ships. 
Across  the  water  from  one  of  trawlers  came  a 
rough  sea-song  from  the  English  sailors  at  their 
work. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  great  battle-ship  lead- 
ing the  fleet,  the  flag-ship  of  the  vice-admiral.  A 
much  smaller  vessel,  corresponding  in  class  to  the 
Osprey,  scouted  at  a  little  distance  to  the  west. 

Suddenly  a  glare  illumined  the  water.  The 
scout's  search-light  was  turned  full  on  the  Kiku. 
Instantly  the  rattling  report  of  the  gunboat's  main 
battery  roared  out,  followed  by  the  heavier  guns  of 
the  battle-ship. 

Rojestvensky,  who,  strange  to  say,  had  been  below 
decks,  now  rushed  to  the  bridge,  and  caught  sight 
of  the  black  hulls  of  the  trawlers. 

' '  Fire  into  them  !  Sink  them  !  Ahead  full  speed ! 
They  are  torpedo-boats!"  he  ordered  without  a 
moment's  reflection. 

The  search-light  of  the  flag-ship  picked  up  a  fish- 
ing steamer,  and  a  moment  later  a  solid  shot  passed 
through  the  hull  of  the  unfortunate  trawler,  below 
the  water-line,  and  she  began  to  sink. 

A  few   more   shots   were  fired  wildly  from  the 


THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR.  24$ 

panic-stricken  Russians,  but  in  five  minutes  it  was 
all  over.  The  fishing-fleet  were  miles  astern,  and 
the  battle-ships  were  furiously  rushing  from  the 
scene  of  the  brief  and  inglorious  action.  One  of  the 
trawlers  was  sunk,  two  men  killed,  and  twenty 
wounded.  This  was  the  story  that  was  brought  to 
Hull  the  next  morning,  and  set  every  Englishman's 
blood  boiling  at  the  reckless,  needless  disaster  in- 
flicted by  Rojestvensky's  ships. 

What,  meanwhile,  had  become  of  the  Kiku  ? 
When  the  first  gun  was  fired  and  the  shot  struck 
the  water  beside  her  she  slapped  a  steel  bolt  into 
the  transport  Kamschatka,  taking  one  of  her  funnels 
off  neatly.  The  enemy  were  too  distant  for  torpedo 
work,  and  before  the  Japanese  gunners  could  deter- 
mine where  to  fire  (they  had  aimed  hap-hazard  at 
the  search-light  of  the  scout,  for  the  first  shot),  or 
in  what  direction  to  steer  for  an  attack  at  close 
quarters,  a  shell  plumped  into  their  engine-room  and 
exploded,  killing  four  men  and  putting  the  ship 
completely  out  of  action.  Another  shot  hulled  the 
Kiku  and  fatally  wounded  three  more  of  her  crew. 
Oto,  standing  on  the  bridge  and  hitherto  unhurt, 
calmly  gave  orders  to  lower  the  boats.  There  was 
confusion  in  the  darkness,  and  the  sudden  calamity, 
and  only  one  of  the  Kikus  four  boats  was  in  the 
water  before  the  ship  sank.  Oto  was  one  of  the 
half-dozen  men  who  were  picked  up;  every  other 


246  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

on  board  went,  with  their  vessel,  to  the  bottom  of 
the  North  Sea. 

Driven  away  from  the  trawlers  by  a  fresh  breeze, 
the  Japanese  survivors  headed  their  boat  westward 
and  pulled  lustily.  Early  the  next  afternoon  they 
landed  near  Yarmouth  and  made  their  way  to  Lon- 
don. Their  leader  knew  where  to  send  them,  in 
that  great  city,  to  find  friends,  and  within  a  week 
they  had  shipped  in  various  vessels  for  Japan.  Oto 
himself,  having  sent  a  cipher  despatch  to  Tokio, 
took  passage  on  a  Cunarder  for  New  York,  and  was 
once  more  on  board  a  ship  in  Togo's  fleet  in  time 
to  witness  the  fall  of  Port  Arthur. 

To  anticipate  the  course  of  this  story,  and  com- 
plete that  of  the  Dogger  Bank  affair,  it  may  be  added 
that  for  a  time  war  between  Russia  and  England 
seemed  imminent.  An  agreement  between  the  two 
Powers,  however,  was  finally  reached,  by  the  terms 
of  which  an  international  inquiry  was  to  be  held, 
conducted  by  a  Commission  of  naval  officers  of  high 
rank,  one  British,  one  Russian,  one  French,  one 
American,  and  one  to  be  selected  by  these  four. 
Evidence  as  to  the  presence  of  torpedo-boats  on  the 
Bank  was  widely  conflicting,  but  after  many  pro- 
tracted meetings  the  North  Sea  Tribunal,  as  it  was 
called,  finally  announced  its  decision,  which  was, 
briefly,  that  the  Russians  had  not,  in  reality,  been 
attacked  by  torpedo-boats,  and  that  the  vice-admiral 


THE  DOGGER  BANK  AFFAIR.  247 

was  not  justified  in  firing  into  the  fishing-fleet; 
that,  however,  "under  the  circumstances  preceding 
and  following  the  incident  there  was  such  uncer- 
tainty concerning  the  danger  to  the  squadron  as  to 
warrant  Rojestvensky  in  continuing  his  route." 
They  did  not  positively  condemn  the  Russians  for 
firing,  but  they  decreed  that  they  should  pay  an  in- 
demnity to  England,  for  the  property  destroyed, 
and  to  aid  the  families  of  the  killed  and  wounded 
fishermen. 

There  was  much  criticism  upon  this  verdict 
throughout  the  countries  represented  upon  the 
Commission;  but  it  was  indeed  impossible  for  the 
judges  to  determine  where  the  fault  really  lay. 
The  trawlers  testified,  one  and  all,  that  there  was 
no  torpedo-boat  present.  Certain  officers  of  the 
Russian  ships,  on  the  other  hand,  testified  point- 
blank  to  having  seen  the  hostile  craft,  and  the  com- 
mander of  \\xzKamsckatka  stoutly  alleged  that  he  had 
been  fired  upon  by  a  torpedo-boat,  and  had  signalled 
the  fact  to  the  flag-ship,  at  the  outset  of  the  affair. 

On  the  whole,  the  best  comment  upon  the  verdict 
was  made  by  Bob  Starr,  on  the  Osprey,  when  he 
read  the  despatch  in  the  papers. 

"It  reminds  me  of  the  Western  jury,"  said  the 
midshipman,  "who  knew  the  prisoner  well,  and 
liked  him  too  much  to  convict  him ;  so  they  brought 
in  a  verdict  of  '  Not  guilty,  but  don't  do  it  again  ! '  " 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THE  FALL  OF   PORT  ARTHUR. 

AT  about  the  date  of  the  miscarriage  of  Com- 
mander Oto  Owari's  plans  in  the  North  Sea, 
the  regiment  in  which  his  old  friend  Oshima  *  com- 
manded a  company  was  detached  from  Oyama's 
army  of  invasion  and  added  to  the  forces  under 
General  Nogi,  besieging  Port  Arthur. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Port  Arthur  was  com- 
pletely isolated  on  land  when  the  Second  Japanese 
Army,  under  General  Oku,  captured  Nanshan  Hill, 
in  the  latter  part  of  May,  1904.  On  August  gth  the 
Russians  were  driven  into  their  permanent  works, 
the  real  siege  beginning  three  days  later,  when 
shells  fell  in  the  streets  of  the  city  for  the  first  time. 

The  task  before  the  small  brown  men  of  Nippon 
seemed  an  impossible  one.  There  were  seventeen 
permanent  forts  to  be  taken,  forty-two  semi-perma- 

*  The  Captain  Oshima  who  figures  in  these  pages  must  not  be  mis- 
taken for  Lieutenant-General  Oshima,  whose  gallant  services  during 
the  siege  of  Port  Arthur  have  already  been  chronicled  in  the  daily 
newspapers  of  America. 

248 


THE  FALL   OF  PORT  ARTHUR.  249 

nent  improvised  fortifications,  two  miles  of  fortified 
Chinese  wall,  and  a  triple  line  of  trenches  over 
eight  miles  long.  The  forts  were  so  arranged  that 
each  was  commanded  by  several  others;  and  the 
whole  were  manned  and  defended  by  some  of  the 
bravest  soldiers  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

"You  are  expected  to  do  the  impossible  things," 
was  the  first  order  from  the  Mikado  to  his  troops  in 
the  field.  The  expectation  was  fulfilled;  the  im- 
perial edict  was  obeyed.  Ten  thousand  men,  in  the 
face  of  a  deadly  fire  of  shot  and  shell,  trampled  the 
word  "impossible"  under  foot,  buried  it  beneath 
their  torn  and  mangled  bodies;  and  over  them  the 
soldiers  of  Japan  marched  to  victory. 

Baron  Nogi  did  not  assume  command  in  person 
until  the  siege  had  fairly  begun.  He  had  two  sons, 
Hoten  and  Shoten.  Shoten  fell  on  Nanshan  Hill, 
and  his  body  arrived  in  Tokio  on  the  day  when  his 
father  was  to  sail  for  Manchuria.  "Delay  the 
funeral,"  said  the  General  to  his  wife,  "until  Hoten 
and  I  are  brought  home  to  lie  with  Shoten." 
Hoten  gave  up  his  life  on  the  deadly  ramparts  of 
"203-Metre";  Nogi  still  lives— a  man  "with  face 
parchment-crinkled,  brown  like  chocolate,  with 
beard  grey  shaded  back  to  brown,  eyes  small  and 
wide  apart,  perfect  teeth,  tiny,  regular  nose  and 
a  beautiful  dome  of  a  head."  So  he  is  described  by 
one  who  has  often  stood  in  his  presence.  Twice 


25O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

conqueror  of  Port  Arthur,  he  is  a  mighty  force  in 
the  Japanese  army. 

Within  the  city  the  Russian  soldiers,  and  what 
was  left  of  the  civilian  population,  kept  up  a  brave 
front.  The  long  hours  were  passed  by  the  ladies  in 
making  garments  for  the  invalids.  The  hospitals, 
under  the  care  of  the  Red  Cross,  were  beautifully 
kept,  the  laundry  work  being  done  by  poor  women 
and  the  soldiers'  wives,  in  place  of  the  regular  "wash 
men,"  who  had  left  months  before.  Every  day  in 
the  week  a  military  band  played  in  one  or  another 
of  the  hospitals;  one  day  in  the  New  Russian  town 
and  one  in  the  New  Town.  Mrs.  Stoessel,  the  kind- 
hearted  wife  of  the  commander-in-chief,  visited  the 
sick  men,  bringing  such  dainties  as  the  lessening 
fare  of  the  fortress  could  furnish,  and  speaking  en- 
couraging words.  For  every  thousand  invalids  were 
thirty  trained  nurses,  in  addition  to  volunteer 
helpers.  Every  day  came  a  sad  procession,  bring- 
ing wounded  men  in  litters  from  the  outer  works. 
Every  day  the  shells  fell  in  the  doomed  city.  The 
streets  were  full  of  great  gaps,  where  they  struck 
and  exploded.  Before  October  the  Old  Town  was 
a  wreck. 

Every  three  days  the  men  at  the  front  were  re- 
lieved, and  as  their  comrades  took  their  places  the 
troops  came  marching  back,  singing  cheerfully, 
although  there  were  many  vacant  places  in  their 


THE  FALL   OF  PORT  ARTHUR.  2$I 

ranks.  When  they  overtook  a  litter  with  a  dying 
comrade  the  songs  would  cease,  and  crossing  him- 
self each  man  walked  with  bared  head  until  he  had 
passed  the  brave  fellow;  then  he  donned  his  cap 
again  and  continued  his  song.  Not  a  man  of  them 
would  admit  that  the  Japanese  could  ever  take  Port 
Arthur.  Help  would  come  from  Kouropatkin  or 
from  the  sea.  So  the  days  wore  on,  the  leaves  fell, 
chill  winter  winds  began  to  sweep  over  the  gulf, 
October  gave  place  to  November,  and  still  the 
longed-for  relief  was  withheld;  still  the  terrible 
artillery  of  the  foe  roared  from  the  surrounding 
heights  and  from  the  mighty  battle-ships ;  and  day 
by  day  the  thunder  was  louder,  the  hospitals  filled, 
and  the  heart  of  the  gallant  general  grew  heavy. 

After  the  futile  assault  in  August  the  Japanese 
settled  down  to  the  slow  process  of  mining  and 
sapping.  No  one  realised  more  fully  than  General 
Nogi  the  tremendous  task  that  was  before  him. 
Batteries  and  forts  not  only  commanded  one  another 
with  their  guns,  but  were  connected  by  meshes  of 
barbed  wire  which  must  be  cut  in  the  face  of  a  de- 
vastating fire  before  the  assailants  could  advance. 
In  places  these  wires  were  charged  with  electricity. 
When  the  cutters  attempted  to  ply  their  nippers 
they  fell  in  their  tracks,  electrocuted.  The  outer 
slopes  of  the  fortresses  were  formed  of  slippery 
concrete,  or  of  loose  sand  in  which  the  Japanese 


252  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

floundered  and  slid  backward,  while  the  Russian 
marksmen  picked  them  off  with  their  rifles. 

Buried  in  these  formidable  slopes  were  mines  and 
torpedoes,  some  to  be  exploded  by  the  touch  of  an 
electric  button,  some  by  mere  contact.  These 
hurled  hundreds  of  the  assailing  troops  into  the 
air,  torn  and  mangled.  Deep  moats  surrounded 
the  earthworks,  and  were  so  constructed  that  they 
could  be  raked  by  machine-guns.  In  at  least  one 
instance  the  moat  was  filled  with  combustibles 
which  were  fired  as  soon  as  hundreds  of  Japanese 
had  leaped  down  into  it.  They  were  burned  alive. 

But  every  stratagem,  every  defence,  every  death- 
dealing  manoeuvre  of  the  besieged  was  met  and 
overcome  by  the  relentless  besiegers.  To  approach 
the  fortifications  across  the  zone  of  fire  they  dug 
zig-zag  trenches  at  night,  through  which  the  troops, 
after  great  sacrifice  of  life,  could  get  within  striking 
distance  and  carry  this  or  that  battery  by  sudden 
assault.  They  tunnelled  like  moles,  under  the 
moats  and  through  the  earthworks.  It  might  take 
two  days  or  two  months  to  advance  a  hundred  feet, 
but  the  advance  was  effected. 

When  the  soldiers  of  the  two  nations  actually 
met,  the  scene  was  terrible.  As  the  opposing  ranks 
drew  near,  the  men  tossed  balls  of  gun-cotton — an 
explosive  to  which  powder  is  as  a  toy-cracker  to  a 
twelve-inch  turret  gun — among  the  enemy.  They 


THE  OSAKA  BABIES. 


THE  FALL   OF  PORT  ARTHUR.  2  $3 

screamed  defiance.  They  fought  with  swords,  with 
bayonets,  and  finally,  like  wild  beasts,  with  claws 
and  teeth.  No  savage  tribes  of  Darkest  Africa  ever 
grappled  in  more  frightful  conflict. 

The  Japanese  set  their  hearts  upon  taking  Port 
Arthur  on  the  birthday  of  their  Emperor,  October 
29th,  and  the  fiercest  assault  of  the  siege  took  place 
that  day.  On  the  evening  before,  Captain  Oshima 
rested  with  his  company  in  a  trench  which  paralleled 
the  defences  of  one  of  the  strongest  of  the  Russian 
forts.  Until  late  at  night  his  men  were  busy  clean- 
ing themselves  as  best  they  could,  and  changing 
their  linen.  They  were  preparing  for  death.  The 
Japanese  must  die  spotless  in  body  as  well  as  soul, 
to  inherit  eternal  happinesss.  Oshima  sat  under  a 
"bomb-proof"  prepared  by  placing  timbers  across 
the  trench  and  covering  them  with  earth.  He 
talked  calmly  with  his  line  officers,  and  explained 
the  plan  of  the  coming  attack,  as  he  had  received  it 
from  headquarters. 

At  intervals  came  the  sound  of  the  heavy  siege 
mortars,  two  miles  away,  firing  over  their  heads  into 
Port  Arthur.  These  huge  eleven-inch  guns  were 
affectionately  dubbed  "Osaka  Babies,"  because 
they  were  built  at  the  Osaka  arsenal  in  Japan. 
There  were  eighteen  of  them  distributed  about 
Port  Arthur.  Each  gun  was  emplaced  on  a  con- 
crete foundation  eight  feet  deep,  which  required 


254  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC, 

three  weeks  to  build.  The  shells  used  weighed  a 
quarter  of  a  ton  and  each  discharge  cost  Japan  $400. 
The  expense  of  a  six-hour  bombardment  was  some- 
thing over  three  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

"The  'babies'  are  crying,"  observed  Oshima 
drily,  as  he  paused  a  moment  in  his  instructions. 
"To-morrow  night — who  of  us  will  hear  them?  " 

"To-morrow  night,"  exclaimed  a  young  lieu- 
tenant with  enthusiasm,  "they  will  cry  no  more, 
unless  it  be  for  joy.  The  fortress  will  be  ours!  " 

Oshima  glanced  at  his  junior  officer  from  beneath 
his  dark  eyebrows,  but  said  nothing. 

The  night  passed,  and  the  morning  of  the  Mikado's 
birthday  dawned  upon  the  beleaguered  city,  upon 
the  fair  hill-tops  and  the  rippling  sea,  upon  the  stern, 
bearded  faces  of  the  defenders  and  the  eager  brown 
hordes  crouching  in  the  trenches  outside  the  fort. 

Slowly  the  hours  dragged  past,  the  siege-guns 
dropping  their  shells  into  the  sand-slopes  and  tear- 
ing open  great  craters.  Then  shrapnel  was  hurled 
at  the  parapets,  a  hundred  shots  a  minute.  Not  a 
fort  replied.  As  silently  as  the  Continental  troops 
at  Bunker  Hill,  the  Russians  awaited  the  approach 
of  their  foe. 

At  last  the  signal  was  given.  The  little  brown 
men  swarmed  out  of  their  trenches  and  up  the  fatal 
slope.  Then  at  last  the  answer  came,  in  a  blinding 
flash  and  stunning  roar  from  the  embrasures.  When 


THE  FALL   OF  PORT  ARTHUR.  255 

the  smoke  cleared  away  not  a  living  man  was  left  in 
sight,  save  a  few  whose  wounds  were  not  imme- 
diately fatal,  and  who  lay  in  the  hot  sun  helplessly 
awaiting  death. 

Another  onrush  of  the  diminutive  assailants, 
another  crashing  discharge  of  artillery  and  rifle  fire. 
A  few  survived,  this  time,  and  sheltered  themselves 
in  the  gaps  made  by  bursting  shells.  Again  a  host 
of  assailants  springing  upward  over  the  bodies  of 
the  fallen.  Among  them  were  the  men  commanded 
by  Oshima.  The  young  lieutenant,  escaping  the 
first  fire  and  forgetting  all  caution,  sprang  ahead  of 
the  line,  waving  his  sword  and  shouting  "Banzai  !  " 
He  reached  the  ramparts  and  for  an  instant  stood 
erect  upon  them,  a  brave  young  figure  against  the 
blue  sky.  Then  he  toppled  over  into  the  fort  and 
was  never  seen  again  by  his  comrades.  Once  more 
those  who  had  not  fallen  burrowed  in  the  sand-holes 
until  the  final  charge  was  ordered. 

An  Osaka  shell  had  made  a  breach  in  the  ramparts 
through  which  the  Russian  rifles  barked  viciously. 
Oshima's  company  sprang  toward  the  opening,  only 
to  find  it  guarded  by  a  bristling  hedge  of  bayonets 
over  which  the  rear  ranks  were  firing  as  regularly  as 
on  parade. 

"Forward!"  ordered  Oshima,  pointing  to  the 
breach  with  his  sword. 

A  clump  of  Japanese  soldiers  sprang  in  front  of 


2$6  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

the  entrance  and  dropped  in  their  tracks,  pierced  by 
half  a  hundred  bullets.  Their  places  were  instantly 
taken  by  another  squad,  who  reached  the  line  of 
bayonets.  There  was  a  fierce  hand  to  hand  fight 
for  a  minute.  The  opening  was  so  narrow  that 
only  a  few  could  occupy  it  at  the  same  time.  These 
few,  overpowered,  pierced  by  the  lunging  bayonets 
of  the  Russians,  staggered  backward  and  fell,  heap- 
ing the  pile  of  slain  before  the  redoubt.  There  was 
an  instant's  hesitation — then  a  dozen  brown  men 
dropped  their  muskets  and  ran  in  directly  upon  the 
bayonets,  which  flashed  in  the  sunshine  as  they  were 
driven  home.  Before  they  could  be  withdrawn  from 
the  bodies  of  their  voluntary  victims  the  remainder 
of  the  Japanese  company  sprang  in  over  the  bodies 
of  their  comrades  and  the  Russian  defenders  met 
the  same  fate.  Five  minutes  later  the  flag  of  the 
sunrise  floated  from  two  corners  of  the  fort,  and  the 
ambulance  corps  spread  out  over  the  outer  glacis, 
succouring  the  few  wounded  who  survived  the  awful 
carnage. 

Who  were  the  gallant  twelve  who,  like  Arnold 
von  Winkelried,  sheathed  the  bayonets  in  their 
breasts  to  disarm  the  foe  and  so  afford  an  entrance 
for  their  comrades?  Generations  of  schoolboys  have 
told  upon  the  platform  how  the  brave  Switzer  fell : 

"  4  Make  way  for  Liberty!  '  he  cried! 
Made  way  for  Liberty, — and  died  "  ; 


THE  FALL   OF  PORT  ARTHUR. 

but  few,  save  the  keeper  of  the  military  archives 
of  Japan,  know  the  names  of  the  twelve  heroes  of 
Fort  Keekwan. 

The  end  was  not  yet.  No  sooner  was  the  fort 
occupied  by  the  Japanese  than  the  fire  of  two  others 
was  concentrated  upon  it.  The  victors  were  in  turn 
forced  to  evacuate  that  deadly  enclosure,  and  plying 
their  spades  busily,  entrenched  themselves  just  be- 
low the  parapets. 

So  assault  after  assault  was  delivered,  and  the 
slain  lay  in  heaps  inside  the  fortifications  and  with- 
out, and  still  Port  Arthur  was  not  taken ;  but  slowly 
and  relentlessly  the  besiegers  moved  forward,  a  few 
feet,  a  single  earthwork,  a  point  here  and  a  point 
there  being  occupied,  always  nearer  the  heart  of  the 
citadel. 

The  last  stage  of  the  defence  began  with  the 
capture  of  2O3-Metre  Hill,  on  November  2oth,  by 
which  the  Japanese  secured  a  position  from  which 
they  could  search  out  with  their  shells  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  inner  harbour,  where  the  last  hope 
of  the  defenders,  the  remnant  of  their  proud  "Port 
Arthur  Squadron,"  had  lain  in  comparative  safety 
since  the  actions  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  war.  The 
patched-up  hulk  of  the  Retvizan  was  sunk  at  her 
moorings.  Again  and  again  the  other  vessels  in  the 
harbour  were  struck.  The  great  Keekwan  Mount- 
ain fort  was  at  last  taken  and  held,  and  on  Decem- 
23 


258  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

her  3Oth  the  Japanese  stormed  the  key  of  the  inner 
defences,  Ehrlung  fort,  and  put  its  weakened  garri- 
son of  five  hundred  men  to  the  sword.  The  hos- 
pitals of  the  city  were  crowded  and  medicines 
lacking. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  year  General  Stoessel 
ordered  the  remaining  battle-ships  and  cruisers  to  be 
blown  up,  and  the  torpedo-boat  destroyers,  with  a 
transport  containing  eight  hundred  wounded,  to 
make  a  dash  for  Chefoo;  all  of  which  was  success- 
fully carried  out. 

January  i,  1905,  dawned  peacefully.  The  be- 
siegers prepared  themselves  for  a  final  rush,  before 
the  contemplated  horrors  of  which  the  civilised 
world  stood  aghast.  But  it  was  not  to  be. 

Early  in  the  forenoon  a  man  bearing  a  white  flag 
was  seen  mounting  the  parapets  and  approaching 
the  Japanese  lines.  He  was  courteously  received 
and  conducted  to  headquarters.  An  hour  later 
cheers  rent  the  air,  through  all  the  trenches  around 
Port  Arthur.  The  city  had  capitulated.  General 
Stoessel  had  surrendered,  to  save  his  remaining 
half-starved,  emaciated,  faltering  but  gallant  troops 
from  sure  destruction.  What  it  cost  that  brave 
heart  to  speak  the  word,  no  one  can  tell.  In  the 
person  of  her  general,  Russia  knelt  before  the  de- 
spised islanders  and  sued  for  peace.  It  was  a  ter- 
rible humiliation  to  him,  to  the  army,  and  to  the 


THE  FALL   OF  PORT  ARTHUR.  259 

haughty  Empire  whose  boast  had  been :    ' '  Russia 
never  withdraws. 

So  ended  the  greatest  siege,  characterised  by  the 
highest  art  of  warfare  and  the  uttermost  personal 
bravery  of  line,  rank  and  file  on  both  sides,  that  the 
world  has  ever  known. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 
ON  BOARD  THE   "KUSHIRO." 

AFTER  the  fall  of  Port  Arthur  came  a  lull  in  the 
operations  of  both  sides,  at  sea  and  on  land. 
The  Russians  were  still  busy  entrenching  themselves 
in  and  south  of  Mukden,  the  ancient  Manchurian 
capital.  Here  Kouropatkin  had  made  his  stand 
after  the  disastrous  defeat  at  Liaoyang.  Immensely 
strong  works  were  thrown  up,  the  defensive  front 
made  apparently  impregnable,  and  St.  Petersburg 
breathed  more  freely,  although  various  indications 
of  internal  disorders  gave  the  court  concern. 

Oyama's  men,  meanwhile,  prepared  themselves 
as  best  they  might  for  a  winter  campaign.  They 
burrowed  in  the  hillsides  and  lived  in  dug-outs  and 
shanties  almost  within  pistol  shot  of  the  Russian 
outposts.  Supplies  of  food  and  heavy  clothing 
reached  the  army  by  the  Yalu  River  and  from  New- 
chwang  over  the  railway  to  Liaoyang,  whence  they 
were  forwarded  in  waggons  to  the  front.  Oshima 
shared  a  small  mud  hut  with  two  other  line  officers. 
His  men  cheerily  cooked  their  rations  of  rice  over 

260 


ON  BOARD    THE   "  KUSHIRO  ".  261 

little  fires  in  front  of  their  dug-outs.  The  scene 
would  have  resembled  Valley  Forge,  but  that  the 
troops  were  well  clothed  and  under  absolute  dis- 
cipline. 

On  October  2nd,  -Kouropatkin  had  issued  a  pro- 
clamation declaring  that  the  period  of  retreats  was 
over.  "The  army  is  now  strong  enough  to  advance 
and  compel  the  Japanese  to  do  our  will."  This  was 
the  last  effort  to  relieve  Port  Arthur — a  "forlorn 
hope"  indeed.  A  battle  ensued,  the  carnage  and 
desperate  valour  of  which  even  exceeded  those  of 
Liaoyang.  The  Russian  losses  alone  were  nearly 
seventy  thousand,  killed  and  wounded.  After  ten 
days  of  terrific  fighting  they  were  forced  back  to  the 
Hun  River,  where  they  held  their  own  and  settled 
down  for  the  winter,  with  the  Japanese  facing 
them. 

The  Baltic  fleet,  under  Vice-Admiral  Rojest- 
vensky,  after  the  Dogger  Bank  affair,  resumed  its 
voyage  southward.  It  rounded  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  safely  and  proceeded  to  Nossi  B£,  a  port  at 
the  northern  end  of  Madagascar,  where  it  was  wel- 
comed by  the  French  with  as  much  cordiality  as 
they  dared  to  show  their  natural  allies,  without 
open  breach  of  neutrality.  Here  the  vice-admiral 
spent  many  weeks,  cleaning,  provisioning,  and  coal- 
ing his  ships  and  drilling  his  crews. 

A  second  squadron  of  ships,  meanwhile,  started 


262  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

from  the  Baltic  for  the  East,  by  way  of  the  Medi- 
terranean and  the  Suez  Canal,  followed  by  still  a 
third  division.  No  one,  outside  the  inner  circle  of 
the  Russian  Admiralty  and  War  Office,  knew 
where  these  three  squadrons  were  to  unite.  Their 
port  of  destination,  after  the  capture  of  Port  Arthur, 
could,  of  course,  be  no  other  than  Vladivostock, 
where  two  powerful  cruisers,  disabled  by  Togo  in 
August,  had  been  repaired,  and,  with  a  few  smaller 
craft,  still  formed  the  nucleus  of  a  fleet. 

Commander  Oto  Owari  had  hastened  at  once  to 
Tokio,  on  his  unexpected  return  from  the  North 
Sea,  where  his  strategic  attack  upon  the  Baltic  ships 
had  so  signally  failed.  He  was  acquitted  of  blame, 
by  a  court  of  enquiry,  and  was  at  once  given  the 
command  of  the  torpedo-boat  destroyer  Kushiro, 
then  fitting  for  service  in  the  Sasebo  docks. 

At  this  time  O-Hana-San  was  a  nurse  in  the  mili- 
tary hospital  at  Hiroshima.  She  knew  of  Oto's 
appointment  and,  if  the  truth  be  told,  dreaded  the 
time  when  the  Kushiro  should  be  put  in  commission. 
One  day  early  in  March  she  wrote  to  her  old  play- 
mate that  she  and  another  nurse  were  to  have  a  few 
days'  leave  of  absence,  and  that  one  of  the  hospital 
surgeons,  with  his  wife,  was  to  take  them  on  an  ex- 
cursion to  Sasebo  to  see  the  navy  yard — a  privilege 
not  often  accorded,  save  to  those  in  the  service. 
Oto  was  delighted  with  the  prospect  of  seeing  Miss 


ON  BOARD    THE   "  KUSHIRO  ".  263 

Blossom,  and  replied  at  once,  inviting  the  whole 
party  to  inspect  the  Kushiro  and  lunch  with  him 
on  board;  an  invitation  which  was  immediately 
accepted. 

It  was  a  bright,'  cool  day  when  the  little  nurses, 
wearing  the  scarlet  cross  on  their  arms,  traversed  a 
great  paved  square  in  the  navy  yard  under  escort 
of  the  good  surgeon  and  his  wife  (also  a  nurse),  and 
enquired  where  the  Kushiro  was  lying.  The  marine 
who  had  been  questioned  pointed  out  the  three 
black  funnels  of  the  destroyer,  and  the  commander 
himself  met  the  visitors  at  the  gang-plank.  The 
greetings  between  himself  and  Hana  were  full  of 
courtesy  and  entirely  free  from  any  display  of  senti- 
ment. When  the  two  pairs  of  dark  eyes  met  for  an 
instant,  however,  Miss  Blossom  dropped  hers  im- 
mediately and  her  cheeks  showed  a  warmer  brown 
than  usual.  Oto  led  the  way  to  his  cabin  and  at 
once  offered  refreshments  to  his  guests.  It  was  a 
cosy  little  place,  with  its  bunk,  wardrobe,  writing- 
table  and  book-case,  and  a  tiny  connecting  bath- 
room about  four  feet  square. 

The  party  now  went  on  deck  and  to  their  amaze- 
ment found  that  the  boat  was  moving  swiftly  through 
the  harbour  toward  the  sea. 

"It  is  a  little  surprise  I  planned  for  you,"  ex- 
plained the  gallant  commander.  "We  were  to  make 
a  short  trial  cruise  of  eighteen  or  twenty  miles  at 


264  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

about  this  time,  and  as  the  water  is  smooth  to-day 
I  thought  you  would  enjoy  the  excursion/' 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  after  the  first  sensation 
of  fear  the  guests  were  delighted,  and  even  the  timid 
nurses  soon  stood  on  the  quarter-deck,  surveying  the 
scene  and  drinking  in  the  cool  sea-breeze  with  quiet 
happiness. 

On  a  platform  just  in  front  of  them  was  a  six- 
pounder  rifle,  fairly  dazzling  their  eyes,  so  beautifully 
was  it  polished.  Behind  them  was  a  screen,  shelter- 
ing the  "after  steering  position." 

Farther  forward  were  the  great  "nostrils"  of  the 
boat,  the  torpedo-tubes,  and  alongside  them  was  a 
hatch  which  led  to  the  chief  petty-officers'  mess- 
room — a  very  small  apartment,  clean  and  shining 
with  constant  scrubbing.  No  one  can  appreciate 
neatness  better  than  a  hospital  nurse,  and  Hana 
and  her  friends  were  loud  in  their  praises  of  the 
condition  of  these  hidden  niches  in  the  vessel. 

Going  farther  forward  and  looking  down  another 
hatch  they  saw  the  ship's  cook  in  his  galley,  hard 
at  work  preparing  dinner.  Here  also  was  a  dynamo 
for  supplying  electricity  for  the  search-light,  which 
was  placed  between  the  engine-room  hatches  on 
deck. 

"How  many  men  are  there  on  board,  Captain?" 
asked  the  surgeon. 

"Our  complement  is  fifty-two,"  replied  Oto. 


ON  BOARD    THE  "  KUSHIRO".  26$ 

"How  can  they  ever  find  room  to  sleep!"  ex- 
claimed Hana. 

"Well,  there  's  not  much  room  to  spare,"  laughed 
the  commander,  who  seemed  very  happy.  "Some 
sling  their  hammocks  and  others  sleep  on  the 
lockers.  We  shall  seldom  take  a  long  cruise,  like 
those  of  the  larger  ships.  Here  is  a  collapsible 
boat,"  he  added.  "We  have  two,  you  see,  one 
each  side.  They  are  hoisted  out  by  that  derrick  on 
the  mast,  and  if  we  had  to  abandon  ship  they  would 
take  seventeen  men  each,  as  well  as  provisions  and 
water." 

"What  is  this  deck  covered  with,  sir? " 

"A  kind  of  linoleum.  It  is  found  to  answer  our 
purpose  much  better  than  wood,  and  is  used  also  in 
regular  torpedo  boats.  Here,  by  the  way,  are  our 
two  six-pounder  guns :  these  and  the  twelve-pounder 
up  there  constitute  our  bow  fire,  to  be  used  when 
we  are  in  chase  of  an  enemy." 

O-Hana-San  shuddered,  but  said  nothing. 

"How  large  is  this  ship?"  enquired  the  medical 
man,  who  was  bent  on  acquiring  statistics. 

"About  two  hundred  feet  long,  and  twenty  feet 
beam.  She  draws  about  six.  Here  is  our  conning- 
tower,  with  half-inch  steel  armour  on  it.  We  can 
steer  from  here,  and  in  bad  weather  we  have  to,  as 
one  would  be  washed  off  the  bridge." 

The  diminutive  Japanese   ladies   peered   inside. 


266  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

There  was  just  room  for  two  people  to  stand  up,  in 
the  tower,  and  it  was  fitted  with  a  compass,  steering- 
wheel,  telegraph  to  the  engine-room,  and  voice- 
pipes  to  the  torpedo  tubes  and  various  other  parts 
of  the  ship. 

"Only  half  an  inch  thick?  "  queried  the  surgeon, 
examining  the  armour  plates.  "How  thick,  then, 
is  the  ship's  side?" 

"Oh,"  said  Oto,  with  a  smile,  "about  an  eighth  of 
an  inch.  It  's  just  as  good  as  a  foot,  unless  a  shell 
strikes  it.  Will  you  step  down  here?"  he  added, 
leading  the  way  to  a  lower  deck. 

The  surgeon  and  the  ladies  tiptoed  daintily  down 
the  short  ladder,  and  found  themselves  in  a  long, 
low-ceiled  room,  with  a  table  running  along  the 
centre,  fore-and-aft,  and  two  rows  of  lockers  along 
the  sides. 

4 '  This  is  the  mess-deck  of  the  sailors — the  'Jackies,' 
Americans  call  them,"  explained  the  commander, 
who  of  course,  like  every  one  else  on  board,  spoke 
only  in  Japanese.  "We  are  now  under  the  turtle- 
backed  forecastle-deck,  you  see." 

A  few  men  were  down  here,  one  stitching  canvas, 
another  mending  his  clothes,  one  writing  a  letter, 
and  one  stretched  out,  fast  asleep. 

"About  twenty  men  live  down  here,"  added  Oto. 
"These  are  their  hammocks,  and  that  is  the  capstan 
engine."  He  pointed  above  his  head  as  he  spoke. 


ON  BOARD   THE  "  KUSHIRO  ".  267 

"There  are  storerooms  under  our  feet,"  he  con- 
tinued, "where  we  keep  the  explosive  war-heads 
for  the  torpedoes.  We  have  two  eighteen-inch 
torpedoes  carried,  without  the  heads,  in  the  tubes 
themselves.  Now,  shall  we  go  up  to  the  fore- 
bridge?" 

The  surgeon,  who  had  gazed  with  something  of 
dismay  at  the  deck  which  concealed  such  terrible 
munitions,  mounted  the  ladder  with  alacrity,  fol- 
lowed by  his  wife  and  her  friends. 

All  five  now  stood  beside  the  great  twelve- 
pounder.  The  Kushiro  was  well  out  of  the  harbour 
and  standing  directly  toward  the  Chinese  coast. 
To  the  north-east  the  mountains  of  Korea  could  be 
dimly  discerned,  like  blue  shadows  on  the  horizon. 
The  ship  was  moving  so  smoothly  through  the 
water  that  it  seemed  impossible  that  she  was 
slipping  along  at  the  rate  of  nearly  twenty-four 
knots  an  hour,  as  the  quartermaster  stated,  in  reply 
to  a  question  from  Oto.  The  only  indication  of 
her  speed  was  the  fountain  of  spray  rising  at  the 
sharp,  straight  stern,  and  sparkling  with  rainbow 
hues  in  the  flashing  sunshine. 

At  this  moment  a  petty  officer  approached  the 
commander,  touched  his  cap,  and  said  something 
which  the  others  did  not  hear.  Oto  caught  up  a 
pair  of  binoculars  and  peered  intently  through  them 
at  a  low  line  of  smoke  ahead  and  a  little  to  the 


268  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

north  of  the  Kuskiro's  course.  After  a  moment  he 
put  down  the  glasses. 

"Port  half  a  point,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Port  half  a  point,  sir,"  repeated  the  quarter- 
master. 

After  a  minute,  "Steady!  " 

"Steady,  sir." 

"I  think  it  is  an  American  war-ship,"  remarked 
Oto  pleasantly,  turning  to  his  guests.  "We  shall 
run  down  near  her,  that  you  may  see  how  the 
foreigner  looks.  I — I  am  quite  familiar  with  the 
American  ships  myself." 

The  commander  and  O-Hana-San  exchanged  a 
swift  glance  of  understanding,  but  no  further  allu- 
sion was  made  to  Oto  Owari's  former  experience, 
of  which  the  little  Red-Cross  nurse  was  well  aware. 

"Ah,"  exclaimed  the  surgeon,  drawing  a  long 
breath  of  delight  as  he  looked  out  over  the  sparkling 
waters  of  the  Yellow  Sea,  * '  I  could  almost  wish  to 
change  places  with  you,  Captain  !  This  is  delicious, 
after  the  atmosphere  of  the  hospital,  the  sound  of 
groans,  the  odour  of  antiseptics  and  anaesthetics! 
I  do  not  wonder  that  you  chose  the  navy  for  your 
calling." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Oto,  with  his  gentle  laugh, 
"  it  does  seem  pleasant  now,  especially  [here  he 
bowed  gracefully]  in  such  exalted  society.  But 
come  out  on  a  cold,  wet  night  in  January,  when  a 


ON  BOARD    THE  "  KUSHIRO  ".  269 

heavy  sea  is  running,  and  you  have  to  hang  on  to 
the  rails  of  the  twelve-pounder,  here,  to  prevent 
yourself  being  carried  off  your  feet ;  when  the  waves 
come  pouring  over  the  turtle-back  and  flood  the 
upper  deck;  when  your  're  soaked  to  the  skin, 
and  shivering,  and  thinking  of  —  of  [he  glanced  at 
Blossom]  thousands  on  shore,  snug  and  warm  and 
fast  asleep ;  when  the  blinding  spray  and  sleet  are 
lashing  your  face  like  whipcord,  so  you  can  hardly 
open  your  eyes  to  see  the  lights  of  the  vessel  you 
are  watching  ahead ;  and  when  everything  down  be- 
low in  the  wardroom  is  sliding  about  on  the  deck — 
well,  I  think  a  comfortable,  dry  room  in  the  hospi- 
tal would  seem  rather  more  attractive  than  the 
bridge  of  the  Kushiro  /  ' ' 

The  girls  smiled  at  his  eloquence,  but  O-Hana- 
San  looked  troubled,  and  her  slim  brown  hand 
shook  a  little  as  she  turned  to  accept  her  old  friend's 
invitation  to  inspect  the  engine-room. 

"I  'm  sorry,"  said  Oto,  "that  we  're  going  only 
two  hundred  and  eighty  revolutions  now.  You 
should  see  them  at  three  hundred  and  fifty,  with 
forced  draft ! ' ' 

The  engine-room  was  hot  and  oily,  and  not  even 
the  fascinating  sight  of  the  bright  steel  rods  flashing 
up  and  down  and  the  cranks  whirring  at  the  rate  of 
four  revolutions  a  second — a  mere  mist  of  metal — 
could  long  detain  the  party.  They  were  rather 


2/0  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

glad,  it  must  be  confessed,  when  a  hail  from  the 
deck  sent  the  commander  flying  up  the  ladder  and 
the  rest  could  follow,  holding  their  garments  care- 
fully aloof  from  the  glistening  metal  work. 

On  their  reaching  the  deck  a  glorious  sight  met 
their  gaze.  About  half  a  mile  away  was  a  war-ship, 
white  as  snow,  coming  toward  them.  The  beauti- 
ful stars  and  stripes  blew  out  over  her  taffrail,  and 
a  string  of  flags  fluttered  from  her  yard-arm.  The 
signalman  was  just  sending  up  an  answer  on  the 
Kushiro. 

"It  is  the  United  States  gunboat  Osprey"  said 
Commander  Oto,  with  unusual  excitement  in  his 
voice,  and  a  glow  on  his  olive  cheeks.  ' '  We  have 
invited  her  commander  to  come  on  board,  and  he 
has  graciously  consented  to  do  so,  although  his 
ship  is  of  a  larger  class  than  mine,  knowing  that  a 
Japanese  officer  is  forbidden  to  leave  his  ship  at  sea, 
on  any  pretence,  in  war  time.  See,  they  are  lower- 
ing a  boat ! ' ' 

The  Kushiro  had  already  stopped  her  engines, 
and  the  Osprey,  which  had  slowed  down  several 
minutes  before,  now  followed  her  example.  The 
two  vessels  slowly  approached  each  other  until  they 
were  but  a  few  hundred  yards  apart. 

A  boat  was  now  seen  leaving  the  American,  and 
the  destroyer's  side  was  manned  by  jackies  to 
receive  the  visitor  with  naval  honours.  In  five 


ON  BOARD   THE  "  KUSHIRO  ".  271 

minutes  the  boat  was  alongside,  and  Dave  Rexdale 
sprang  up  the  steps  to  the  deck  of  the  Kushiro. 
Oto  was  awaiting  him,  and  with  a  smile  that  showed 
the  flash  of  his  dark  eyes  and  white  teeth,  held  out 
his  hand  to  the  American  officer. 

"Welcome,  sir,"  he  said,  in  good  English.  "I 
am  glad  to  see  you  again,  and  on  the  deck  of  my 
own  ship." 

Dave  stared  a  moment,  then  darted  forward  and 
wrung  the  hand  of  the  elegantly  uniformed  com- 
mander, in  whom  he  recognised  his  former  steward. 

"Oto!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Commander  Oto  Owari,  of  His  Imperial  Ma- 
jesty's Navy,"  said  the  Japanese,  returning  the 
other's  cordial  grasp.  "Permit  me  to  present  you 
to  these  ladies,  who  do  not  speak  English,  but  for 
whom  and  yourself  I  shall  be  glad  to  act  as  inter- 
preter." 

Well,  Commander  Rexdale  made  his  most  gallant 
speeches  to  the  blushing  little  nurses,  who  in  turn 
murmured  their  earnest  desire  to  break  their  bones 
and  knock  their  heads  abjectly  in  his  august  pres- 
ence. Introduction  to  the  surgeon  and  the  officers 
of  the  ship  followed. 

"I  had  my  suspicions,  when  you  pointed  that 
gun,"  laughed  Dave,  turning  again  to  Oto.  "And 
when  the  torpedo-boat  carried  you  off  so  neatly ' ' 

But  here  Oto  interrupted  with  a  significant  glance 


2/2  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

toward  his  subordinates,  showing  that  he  did  not 
care  to  have  all  the  events  of  that  voyage  made 
public. 

With  true  Japanese  hospitality  he  begged  Rex- 
dale  to  remain  and  join  the  party  at  luncheon;  but 
Dave  could  not  leave  his  own  ship  so  long,  and  after 
a  few  minutes'  conversation  was  obliged  to  leave. 
He  explained  that  the  Osprey  had  been  docked  at 
Cavite  during  the  winter ;  then  detailed  to  her  old 
station  as  guardship  at  Chemulpo,  whence  she  was 
now  on  her  way  to  Shanghai. 

"I  suppose  you  heard  this  morning's  news?"  he 
said  carelessly,  as  he  stepped  to  the  gangway. 

"What  news?"  asked  Oto,  with  a  keen  look. 

"Rojestvensky's  ships  have  been  sighted,  about 
half-way  between  Chagos  and  Singapore,  steaming 
east  at  full  speed,"  said  Dave,  in  a  lower  tone.  "It 
looks  as  if  he  were  going  to  try  the  Strait  of  Ma- 
lacca. Forty-two  vessels  reported,  including  trans- 
ports and  colliers.  Good-bye!  " 

The  blue-jackets  of  the  Kushiro,  at  the  instigation 
of  her  executive,  gave  the  departing  visitors  three 
cheers  as  the  men  let  fall  their  oars.  Sam  Bolles 
and  Dick  Scupp,  who  happened  to  be  in  the  boat's 
crew,  stared,  with  open  mouths,  at  the  Japanese 
commander,  who  nodded  to  them  in  a  friendly  way. 
A  few  minutes  later  the  foam  gathered  under  the 
Osprey' s  bows  as  she  bore  off  toward  China,  and  the 


ON  BOARD    THE   "  KUSHIRO".  2?$ 

Kushiro,  making  a  graceful  turn,  headed  toward 
Nagasaki,  both  vessels  dipping  their  colours  in 
salute. 

The  news  which  he  had  heard  affected  Oto  deeply, 
but  he  let  no  sign  of  his  emotions  appear  to  dimin- 
ish his  courteous  hospitality  to  his  guests.  They 
dined  in  the  officers'  mess-room,  the  captain's  cabin 
being  too  small  for  the  purpose.  Everything  passed 
off  happily  and  gaily. 

"Going  into  the  harbour,  sir,"  reported  a  boat- 
swain to  the  commander,  as  the  repast  was  finished. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  Kushiro  approached  her 
dock  and  made  a  near  landing.  Oto  bade  the  visit- 
ors farewell.  O-Hana-San,  drawn  by  something  in 
his  dark  eyes,  lingered  just  a  moment,  as  he  took 
her  hand  in  his  own. 

"When  you  hear  from  me  again,"  he  whispered, 
"I  shall  have  been  in  action.  The  Russian  fleet  is 
close  at  hand,  and  we  may  be  ordered  south  before 
morning.  Farewell,  O-Hana-San !" 

"Oto!  Oto!     Sayonara!  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TRAPPED   IN   MANCHURIA. 

A  LESS  energetic  and  determined  individual 
than  Mr.  Frederic  Larkin  might  well  have 
felt  discouraged  when,  successively  fired  upon  by 
the  Japanese  and  rejected  by  the  Russians,  he  was 
thrust  out  of  Port  Arthur  and  landed  in  Chefoo. 
His  pass  from  the  War  Office  at  Tokio  had  been 
taken  from  him  when  he  first  entered  Port  Arthur, 
and  had  not  been  returned.  To  present  himself 
again  at  General  Stoessel's  headquarters  was  out  of 
the  question,  even  if  the  means  were  possible. 

"The  balloon  route  seems  to  be  indefinitely  sus- 
pended," mused  Fred,  as  he  rested  on  the  hotel 
verandah  in  the  Chinese  city,  "and  without  much 
doubt  I  should  be  definitely  suspended — by  the 
neck — if  the  Russians  caught  me  a  third  time  inside 
the  fortress.  No,  there  's  no  use  in  wasting  time 
(and  a  good,  serviceable  neck)  in  trying  to  carry  out 
home  orders.  I  '11  cable  the  Bulletin  and  ask  for 
instructions." 

274 


TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA.  2/5 

This  he  did  at  once,  and  the  answer  arrived  before 
night,  from  the  editor  of  that  enterprising  sheet: 
"  Get  new  pass.  Join  Japanese  army  at  front.  Re- 
main till  ordered  home.  No  more  balloon  !  " 

Fred  laughed  -as  he  crumpled  the  dispatch  and 
thrust  it  into  his  pocket.  With  characteristic  energy 
he  obtained  passage  on  a  vessel  chartered  for  Naga- 
saki, and  within  a  week  was  on  his  way  back  to 
Manchuria  with  brand-new  credentials  from  Tokio. 
Landing  at  Antung,  at  the  head  of  the  Korean 
bay,  he  engaged  a  man  and  a  couple  of  ponies  to 
take  him  and  his  baggage  to  the  Japanese  advanced 
lines,  north  of  Liaoyang.  This  was  in  late  Febru- 
ary, 1905,  when  the  ground  was  frozen  hard  and 
snow  lay  deep  in  the  valleys  and  over  the  ice-bound 
streams  of  Manchuria. 

It  will  shortly  be  seen  that  for  once  the  reporter's 
energy  proved  his  undoing,  so  far  as  active  service 
at  the  front  was  concerned. 

It  was  a  bright,  cold  morning  when  he  mounted 
his  pony,  after  many  provoking  delays  and  setbacks 
from  the  local  military  authorities,  and  rejoiced  to 
feel  that  he  was  really  on  his  way  northward.  Kan- 
uka,  the  guide  and  porter,  strode  along  the  path  in 
advance,  leading  the  pack  pony,  while  Fred  fol- 
lowed on  the  other  little  beast,  whose  bad  temper 
was  out  of  all  proportion  to  his  size. 

Kanuka  appeared  to  be  a  Chinaman  who  spoke, 


276  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

besides  his  own  language — a  Manchurian  dialect — a 
very  broken  sort  of  English  and  Japanese.  Larkin 
had  not  liked  his  looks,  but  time  was  precious  and 
he  hoped  to  get  rid  of  the  man  after  three  or  four 
days  at  the  utmost.  Kanuka  was  under-sized,  and 
had  a  droop  of  the  head  which  gave  his  eyes  a  sort 
of  malevolent  expression  as  he  peered  upward, 
under  his  shaggy  brows.  He  stooped  slightly,  was 
sallow-faced,  and,  oddly  enough,  had  grizzled,  curly 
hair  and  a  full  black  beard,  like  a  Russian.  He  was 
in  reality,  as  Fred  afterward  learned,  a  native  of 
Eastern  Siberia,  though  he  dressed  like  a  Chinaman 
and  spoke  like  a  Manchurian. 

For  a  while  the  little  train  proceeded  in  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  snorting,  kicking  ponies  and 
the  harsh,  guttural  expletives  of  the  guide,  who 
belaboured  them  with  his  cudgel  until  Fred  checked 
him. 

"These  ponies  must  last  four  days,  my  friend," 
he  sung  out.  "If  you  keep  up  your  style  of  cor- 
rection there  won't  be  more  than  two  hoofs  and  an 
ear  left  by  the  time  we  reach  Liaoyang. ' ' 

Kanuka  muttered  something  Larkin  could  not 
understand,  and  pointed  to  a  low  line  of  clouds  in 
the  west. 

"What  does  that  mean— storm?  " 

The  man  nodded. 

"H'm.     What  's  the  nearest  large  town?  " 


TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA. 

"  Feng-Weng-Chang. " 

"That  's  too  far.  There  must  be  something 
nearer  than  that ! ' ' 

Kanuka  nodded  again  and  made  a  gesture  toward 
the  north.  "Good  place  to  stop,  near  Yalu." 

"Near  the  Yalu?  But  that  's  off  our  route,  old 
chap.  I  guess  we  '11  push  on  toward  Feng-Weng- 
Chang.  There  must  be  some  villages  along  the 
road." 

The  guide  stolidly  turned  and  plodded  on  with- 
out another  word  save  a  native  oath  or  two  ad- 
dressed to  the  pony,  which  responded  with  a  squeal 
and  a  sidewise  kick  with  one  hind-foot. 

The  clouds  rose  rapidly,  and  the  cold  grew  more 
intense.  The  sky  was  now  entirely  covered,  and  a 
biting  wind  swept  down  through  the  valley  of  the 
Yalu.  At  noon  Fred  called  a  halt  in  the  shelter  of 
a  clump  of  trees,  and  a  hasty  meal  was  prepared 
over  a  small  fire,  while  the  horses  were  given  food 
and  drink.  The  guide  remained  sullen  and  taciturn, 
but  performed  his  duties  well.  Fred  had  a  belt 
around  his  waist  filled  with  gold  pieces,  as  well  as  a 
pocket  full  of  change. 

"Look  here,  Kanuka,"  he  said,  as  the  cavalcade 
resumed  their  march,  "you  bring  me  to  a  house 
where  we  can  be  decently  comfortable  for  to-night, 
and  I  '11  hand  you  ten  yen,  in  addition  to  your 
regular  pay.  See? " 


2/8  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  under  his  shaggy 
sheepskin  cloak  and  pointed  up  to  the  sky. 

"Snow  soon,"  he  said  gruffly.  "House  that 
way"  ;  and  again  he  indicated  the  north. 

"Well,  we  may  have  to  come  to  it,  but  I  don't 
want  to  go  a  foot  off  the  main  trail  if  I  can  help 
it.  There  are  too  many  loose  characters  floating 
about  these  regions  to  make  the  country  healthy 
for  foreigners,  away  from  the  military  roads — eh, 
Kanuka?" 

A  gleam  came  into  the  guide's  dark  eye,  but 
passed  like  a  flash.  He  only  shrugged  his  shoulders 
again,  and  resumed  the  weary  tramp  along  the 
frozen  path. 

Now  a  snow-flake  floated  downward  and  alighted 
on  Fred's  coat-sleeve.  He  surveyed  it  with  interest. 

"Kanuka,"  he  observed,  '"  you  're  a  genius. 
You  'd  be  a  valuable  aid  to  General  Greely,  over  in 
my  country,  forecasting  weather.  The  snow  has 
arrived — a  'local  area'  of  it,  anyway.  How  long 
do  you  suppose  it  will  last?" 

"Two  days." 

"Whew!  It  's  a  poor  lookout  for  equestrian 
excursions  to  the  rural  districts !  Here  it  comes,  in 
dead  earnest ! ' ' 

A  gust  of  wind  rushed  down  from  the  mountains, 
and  in  a  minute  the  air  was  full  of  fine  drift  which 
stung  the  faces  of  men  and  horses  like  needles. 


TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA.  279 

The  ponies  whirled  round  and  it  was  only  by  the 
utmost  efforts  of  the  rider  and  his  attendant  that 
they  were  forced  to  go  on. 

The  landscape  was  now  almost  entirely  lost  to 
view.  All  Fred  .took  note  of  was  the  snowy  mane 
of  his  pony  and  the  bowed  back  of  the  guide,  urg- 
ing the  pack-horse  up  the  path,  which  had  of  late 
grown  much  rougher  and  steeper.  Hour  after  hour 
passed.  Fred,  buffeted  by  the  blast  and  half- 
frozen  as  he  crouched  on  the  saddle,  suddenly  real- 
ised that  it  was  growing  darker.  Night  was  falling. 
The  new  snow  was  now  over  the  horses'  fetlocks, 
and  in  places  the  drifts  were  nearly  to  the  stirrups. 

"Where  are  we,  Kanuka?" 

"Not  far  from  Yalu.     See — good  house  ahead!  " 

Fred  wiped  the  frozen  snow  from  his  eyelashes 
and  peered  over  the  horse's  head.  Sure  enough, 
there  was  the  welcome  sight  of  a  light,  gleaming 
hospitably  through  the  gathering  darkness. 

"Good!  "  he  ejaculated  with  stiff  lips,  under  his 
icy  moustache.  "I  thought  we  should  find  some- 
body living  on  this  old  Feng-Weng  turnpike." 

"This  Yalu  road,"  said  the  guide. 

"What,  have  we  left  the  main  trail?" 

"Two  hours  ago.  No  good  to  keep  same  road. 
All  go  sleep  there — no  wake  up."  The  man  had 
to  shout  to  make  himself  heard  above  the  roar  of 
the  storm. 


28O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Fred  did  not  like  this  independent  change  of 
route,  but  going  back  was  out  of  the  question,  and 
he  was  too  cold  to  argue,  with  fire,  shelter,  and 
food  close  at  hand. 

"  All  right,"  he  said  briefly.  "Keep  on.  We  '11 
talk  it  over  afterward." 

Ten  minutes  later  Kanuka  halted  before  the  door 
of  a  rude  hut,  which  communicated  with  two  or 
three  small  wings  or  out-houses.  It  was  built  of 
mud  and  rough  stones  and  thatched  with  straw. 
There  were  several  houses  similar  in  character  farther 
down  the  road.  The  little  settlement  was  in  a  shel- 
tered nook  between  two  high  hills,  which,  as  the 
valley  ran  east  and  west,  protected  the  huts,  or 
hovels  as  they  might  well  be  called,  from  the  full 
force  of  the  gale. 

Kanuka  knocked  at  the  door  with  his  club,  but  it 
was  some  time  before  it  was  opened,  although  the 
light  burning  within,  shining  through  the  small 
window,  showed  that  the  occupants  were  awake. 
The  guide  was  redoubling  his  blows  and  shouting 
in  his  own  language,  when  the  door  swung  inward, 
and  an  old  woman  appeared  in  the  opening.  A  low 
colloquy  ensued,  and  then  Kanuka  turned  to  his 
employer. 

"She  says  we  may  spend  the  night  here,"  he 
said,  in  better  English  than  he  had  yet  used.  "Go 
you  in  and  get  warm,  sir.  I  will  care  for  horses." 


TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA.  28l 

With  some  difficulty  Fred  dismounted  and 
stumbled  in  at  the  open  doorway.  He  found 
himself  in  a  small  low-browed  room,  so  filled  with 
smoke  that  his  eyes  tingled,  and  so  dirty  that,  hard- 
ened traveller  as  he  was,  he  hesitated  for  a  moment 
before  removing  his  heavy  coat. 

The  aged  crone  paid  no  further  attention  to  her 
visitor,  but  resumed  her  preparations  for  the  even- 
ing meal,  which  had  been  interrupted  by  Fred's 
appearance  on  the  scene.  There  was  a  broad,  irreg- 
ular fireplace  on  one  side  of  the  room,  and  here  a  fire 
was  blazing,  with  a  black  pot,  from  which  rose  a 
not  unsavoury  steam,  suspended  over  the  flames. 
Mumbling  to  herself,  the  mistress  of  the  hut — for 
such  she  seemed  to  be — occupied  herself  in  stirring 
the  contents  of  the  pot,  and  in  dragging  a  small 
wooden  table  to  the  centre  of  the  floor,  which,  like 
the  table,  the  chairs,  the  walls,  and  the  old  woman 
herself,  was  grimy  and  redolent  of  filth. 

Accustomed  to  adapt  himself  to  all  sorts  of 
strange  surroundings  the  reporter  now  removed 
his  outer  garments,  and  approached  the  fire  with  a 
propitiatory  word  to  the  woman ;  but  she  responded 
merely  by  pointing  impatiently  to  a  bench,  and 
turning  her  back  upon  him.  Nothing  daunted  Fred 
drew  the  bench  nearer  the  fireplace  and  proceeded 
to  thaw  out  his  benumbed  fingers  with  every  out- 
ward appearance  of  content  and  satisfaction.  To 


282  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

please  himself  rather  than  his  hostess,  who  he  knew 
could  not  understand  a  word  he  spoke,  he  con- 
tinued to  soliloquise  aloud. 

"You  are  not  very  sociable,  ma'am,"  he  said 
cheerfully,  spreading  out  his  hands  to  the  blaze, 
"but  actions  speak  louder  than  words,  and  the 
prospect  of  that  'boiled  dinner'  in  the  kettle  fully 
compensates  me  for  the  lack  of  conventional  atten- 
tions. Permit  me! " 

He  saw  that  she  was  about  to  lift  the  pot  from 
the  fire,  and  stepping  in  front  of  her  he  proceeded 
to  relieve  her  of  the  task,  to  which,  in  truth, 
with  her  bent  and  aged  form,  she  hardly  seemed 
equal. 

A  minute  later  the  contents  of  the  pot  were 
heaped  in  a  large  wooden  platter  on  the  table.  At 
this  interesting  point  Kanuka  entered  from  a  rear 
door,  stamping  off  the  snow,  and  took  his  place  on 
the  bench  beside  Fred. 

"Don't  apologise,  brother,"  said  the  latter,  with 
perfect  good-humour.  "In  great  emergencies  all 
men  are  free  and  equal — as  they  were  born.  See 
Constitution  of  the  United  States  of  America,  line 
3.  Suppose  we  draw  this  seat  up  to  the  board, 
which  groans  with  the  delicacies  of  the  season  ? ' ' 

Kanuka  assented  with  a  grunt,  and,  their  hostess 
having  supplied  each  with  a  large  wooden  spoon, 
they  proceeded  to  eat  from  the  dish;  the  "deli- 


TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA.  283 

cacies"  being  found  to  consist  of  rice,  with  some 
other  unknown  vegetables  and  bits  of  boiled  beef. 

There  was  but  little  said  during  the  meal.  The 
two  natives  ate  in  silence,  and  Fred  was  too  much 
occupied  in  avoiding  doubtful  ingredients,  in  his 
own  share  of  the  common  mess  of  reeking  food,  to 
put  any  unusual  strain  upon  his  conversational 
powers.  The  withered  crone  now  produced  a  flask 
of  vodka,  which  Fred  at  first  refused,  but  of  which 
the  others  partook  freely.  The  effect  of  the  liquor 
was  to  loosen  their  tongues  somewhat,  and  they  con- 
versed with  each  other  in  low  gutturals.  Presently 
the  woman  took  the  vodka  flask  and  left  the  room, 
returning  shortly  with  a  mug  full  of  liquor,  which 
she  again  proffered  her  guest. 

"She  has  mixed  it  with  snow/*  interpreted  Kan- 
uka,  as  she  urged  it  upon  him.  "It  is  weak  and 
will  not  hurt  you." 

Not  to  seem  discourteous  Fred  drank  a  little,  but 
soon  drew  back  from  the  table. 

"I  'm  not  thirsty,  Kanuka,"  said  he,  "but  I  am 
tired  and  sleepy.  Are  the  animals  provided  for?  " 

Kanuka  nodded.  "Warm,  and  supplied  with 
food." 

"And  my  packs?" 

"They  are  in  the  out-house." 

"Very  well;  I  '11  go  to  sleep,  if  the  lady  of  the 
house  will  point  out  my  bedroom." 


284  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Kanuka  spoke  to  the  woman,  who  withdrew  for  a 
moment.  She  came  back  with  two  skins,  one  of  a 
reindeer  and  the  other  a  shaggy  pelt  which  Fred 
did  not  recognise.  She  threw  these  down  in  a 
corner  of  the  room,  opposite  the  fire. 

"There  is  your  bed,"  said  the  guide.  "Sleep 
well." 

"Same  to  you,"  said  Fred,  yawning.  "Good- 
night, ma'am! " 

"Neither  of  the  Manchurians  paid  the  slightest 
attention  to  him  as  he  spread  the  rugs  and  stretched 
himself  at  full  length  between  them.  The  wind 
roared  around  the  little  hut,  and  he  could  hear  the 
snow  beating  against  its  sides.  Before  long  Kanuka 
and  the  woman  left  him  alone,  having  carefully 
covered  the  coals  of  fire  with  ashes,  just  as  he  had 
often  seen  his  grandmother  cover  them  in  his  New 
England  home.  Thinking  about  that  home,  and 
listening  to  the  storm,  he  was  soon  sound  asleep. 

The  travel-worn  correspondent  had  a  curious 
dream.  He  thought  he  was  back  on  the  old  farm  in 
Brookfield  hoeing  corn.  There  was  snow  between 
the  hills,  and  instead  of  drawing  up  warm,  brown 
earth  around  the  six-inch  blades  of  corn,  he  packed 
them  nicely  in  snow,  shivering  as  he  did  so.  There 
were  icicles  on  his  hoe  and  he  could  hardly  have 
kept  at  work  had  he  not  been  aided  by  two  Man- 
churian  ponies  who  pawed  the  snow  toward  the 


TRAPPED  IN  MANCHURIA.  285 

hills,  and  asked  him  to  hurry,  for  a  balloon  was 
coming  for  them  at  precisely  four  o'clock.  He  was 
by  no  means  surprised  to  hear  them  speak,  espe- 
cially as  one  of  them  was  dressed  in  a  ragged  gown 
and  the  other  in  *  sheepskin  cloak. 

"What  time  is  it?"  asked  the  old-woman  pony 
sharply.  He  was  too  cold  to  look,  and  both  ponies 
started  to  fumble  at  his  watch-guard  with  their 
hoofs.  Their  eyes  flashed  fire.  He  began  to  be 
afraid,  and  made  a  tremendous  effort  to  push  them 
back,  but  he  could  not  move  a  finger.  With  a  cry 
of  terror  he  awoke. 

Awoke  to  find  himself  bound,  hand  and  foot, 
with  the  light  of  the  greasy  lamp  shining  in  his 
face.  The  old  hag  was  stooping  over  him  and 
drawing  his  watch  from  his  pocket.  By  the  dim 
light  in  the  room  he  saw  half  a  dozen  wild-looking 
men  standing  around  him.  All  were  armed  and 
their  bearded  faces  were  wolfish.  Kanuka  knelt 
beside  him  tying  the  last  knot  in  the  rope  that 
bound  his  ankles  together.  As  he  caught  sight  of 
Fred's  wide-open  eyes  fixed  upon  him  he  uttered 
an  exclamation  and  drew  a  long  knife  from  his  belt. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE  LITTLE  FATHER. 

A  LTHOUGH  the  correspondent  of  the  Bulletin 
f*  was  not  aware  of  the  fact  when  he  started  on 
his  eventful  journey  northward,  active  hostilities 
had  already  begun  at  the  front.  The  two  immense 
armies,  as  we  have  seen,  lay  entrenched,  facing  each 
other,  in  lines  extending,  nearly  one  hundred  miles 
from  east  to  west,  across  the  railroad  south  of 
Moukden,  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Manchus. 
While  the  Japanese  had  thrown  up  temporary 
earthworks  here  and  there,  and  of  course  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  configuration  of  the  ground  to 
secure  their  positions  against  surprise,  as  well  as  to 
afford  shelter  for  their  troops  against  the  inclemency 
of  the  Manchurian  winter,  the  Russians  were  far 
more  strongly  fortified  and  were  determined  to  hold 
their  ground.  Railroad  trains,  running  between 
Moukden  and  Harbin,  their  great  military  base, 
supplied  them  with  constantly  renewed  stores  of 
ammunition,  food,  and  clothing,  and,  moreover, 
removed  the  sick  and  wounded  from  the  front  and 

286 


THE  LITTLE  FATHER. 

filled  their  places  with  fresh  recruits  as  fast  as  they 
arrived  from  the  west  over  the  Trans-Siberian 
route. 

Such  was  the  situation  when  Field  Marshal 
Oyama,  having  kept  his  vast  armies  under  perfect 
discipline  all  winter,  and  replaced  the  losses  incurred 
at  Liaoyang,  determined  to  move  on  the  enemy, 
who,  refreshed  and  confident,  awaited  behind  their 
ramparts  the  advance  of  the  Japanese. 

Exactly  the  same  tactics  were  employed  as  at 
Liaoyang.  The  ends  of  the  hundred-mile  frontal 
line  struck  heavily,  and  bent  the  Russian  bar  of 
steel  inward  at  both  extremities.  The  attack  began 
on  February  2oth,  and  four  days  later  the  Japanese 
were  in  possession  of  a  strong  Russian  position  at 
the  village  of  Tsinketchen,  far  to  the  east  of  Mouk- 
den.  At  the  same  time  the  Japanese  left  wing 
began  its  march  on  Sinmintin,  at  the  western  end 
of  the  line.  The  Russians,  out-flanked,  fell  back. 
The  extremities  of  the  two  wings  would  doubtless 
have  been  effectively  reinforced  had  not  the  crafty 
Oyama  delivered  a  simultaneous  assault  upon  the 
very  centre  at  Putiloff,  or  "Lone-Tree  Hill,"  to  use 
the  name  that  soon  became  familiar  to  newspaper 
readers  all  over  the  globe.  A  furious  artillery  fire 
was  opened  upon  this  hill  by  the  Japanese.  It  was 
taken  and  retaken.  The  scenes  that  had  horri- 
fied the  world  at  Port  Arthur  and  Liaoyang  were 


288  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

repeated.  Assault  after  assault  was  delivered,  but 
for  a  week  the  devoted  band  of  Muscovites  held 
that  little  acre  of  ground  on  the  hill-top,  while 
regiment  after  regiment  of  the  soldiers  of  Nippon 
melted  away  before  the  terrific  fire  from  the  fortress. 
It  was  like  wading  up  streams  of  molten  lava,  to 
fight  a  volcano  in  full  eruption.  The  Russians 
were  never  driven  from  the  hill  by  direct  assault ; 
but  Kouropatkin,  seeing  his  wings  bent  inward  and 
backward  farther  and  farther,  and  his  front  once 
more  assuming  the  terrible  horse-shoe  shape,  reluc- 
tantly gave  orders  to  his  brave  men  to  withdraw 
from  Putiloff  and  fall  back  on  the  line  of  the  rail- 
road. 

In  the  division  of  the  Japanese  troops  to  whom 
the  capture  of  this  hill — the  keystone  of  Kouropat- 
kin's  arch — was  assigned  was  the  regiment  in  which 
Oshima  served.  Thus  far  Oto's  old  friend  had 
seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life.  He  had  fought  in 
battle  after  battle,  but  had  received  no  wound  of 
any  moment.  His  company  had  been  decimated 
again  arid  again,  but  the  ranks  had  been  filled  and 
the  stern  young  captain  still  held  his  place  in  front, 
as  it  wheeled  into  line  when  the  regiment  was  called 
upon  for  new  duties. 

Upon  hearing  the  order  to  move  upon  Lone-Tree 
Hill,  the  men  set  up  a  cheer.  The  officers  burnished 
their  swords  and  stepped  alertly  to  and  fro,  align- 


THE  LITTLE  FATHER.  289 

ing  the  ranks  and  glancing  along  the  files  to  see 
that  every  equipment  was  in  order  and  every  man 
ready.  This  was  in  the  early  afternoon.  It  was 
understood  that  the  artillery  would  open  upon  the 
hill  batteries  at  sundown,  and  two  hours  later  the 
assault  would  be  made. 

Impatiently  the  compact  mass  of  small  brown 
men  waited  for  the  word.  The  great  siege  guns, 
brought  with  infinite  labour  from  Port  Arthur, 
roared  and  thundered.  Putiloff  answered,  and 
shrapnel  burst  over  the  Japanese  troops,  who  bur- 
rowed as  best  they  might  in  trenches  and  holes  and 
behind  every  hillock,  while  they  hastily  devoured 
their  scant  field  rations.  The  night  came  on, 
dark  and  heavy.  At  last  the  welcome  word  was 
received. 

' '  Forward ! ' '  cried  Oshima,  brandishing  his  sword 
so  that  it  glittered  in  the  flashes  of  the  cannon. 

The  regiment  hurled  itself  upon  the  slopes  of  the 
hill,  solid  shot  ploughing  awful  furrows  through 
their  ranks.  The  survivors  kept  on,  undaunted. 
That  night  meant  for  them  victory  or  a  glorious 
death.  No  one  thought  of  retreat. 

As  he  saw  his  men  swept  downward  by  the  piti- 
less hail  of  steel,  Oshima  lost  all  sense  of  danger,  and 
the  old  spirit  of  his  Samurai  ancestors  blazed  out. 
"Strike!  Strike!  "  he  shouted  to  his  men,  spring- 
ing in  front  of  them  as  the  broken  line  faltered  for 
19 


2QO  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

a  moment.  "  Up  the  hill !  It  is  ours !  Banzai  dai 
Nippon!  " 

With  the  wild  cheer  of  Japan  upon  his  lips  he 
suddenly  threw  his  arms  aloft  and  fell  headlong  to 
the  ground.  The  column  swept  by  and  over  him 
in  the  darkness.  Then  two  slightly  wounded  men 
raised  their  captain,  his  hand  still  grasping  his 
sword,  and  tottered  down  the  hill  with  him,  stum- 
bling over  the  bodies  of  the  fallen. 

Not  far  in  the  rear  were  Red-Cross  workers,  and 
the  silent  figure  of  the  brave  officer  was  borne 
swiftly  to  a  hospital  tent,  where  he  partly  regained 
consciousness.  He  was  shot  through  the  body,  and 
the  surgeons  shook  their  heads  as  they  examined 
the  wound.  Still,  there  was  a  chance  for  his  life, 
and  Oshima  was  despatched  to  the  coast,  the  first 
part  of  the  way  in  an  ambulance,  then  by  railway. 
At  Antung  he  remained  until  the  hospital  ship  was 
ready  to  sail  with  its  sad  freight  of  torn,  pierced, 
and  mangled  soldiers.  The  staunch  vessel — painted 
white,  with  a  broad  green  stripe  along  its  hull,  like 
the  sash  of  a  military  surgeon — conveyed  him  safely 
to  Hiroshima,  where  he  was  placed  in  a  cot  near  an 
eastern  window.  Kind  hands  ministered  to  him, 
and  gentle  faces  bent  over  him.  As  he  recovered 
full  possession  of  his  senses  he  saw  one  sweet  face 
that  was  familiar  to  him. 

* '  Hana !  "  he  whispered.  "O-Hana-San,  is  it  you  ? " 


THE  LITTLE  FATHER.  2QI 

Day  after  day  the  battle  raged  in  Manchuria. 
Shells  began  to  fall  in  Moukden,  and.  in  an  hour  the 
city  was  a  scene  of  ghastly  confusion  and  panic. 
Hospital  trains,  loaded  to  the  doors  with  wounded 
and  dying,  pulled  out  of  the  station,  the  groans  and 
shrieks  of  the  sufferers  mingling  with  the  clank  and 
clatter  of  the  iron  wheels.  Men  and  women  rushed 
to  and  fro  in  the  muddy  streets— for  this  was  the 
first  week  in  March,  and  a  few  warm  days  had 
turned  snow  and  ice  to  mire,  ankle  deep — and 
fought  each  other  in  a  frenzied  fear  as  they  strug- 
gled for  places  in  carts  and  railway  cars,  with  such 
of  their  personal  effects  as  they  could  carry  in  their 
arms.  Thieves  and  drunken  soldiery  looted  shops 
and  private  houses  boldly. 

It  was  rumoured  that  the  awful  Japanese  line  was 
closing  in  on  the  north,  and  that  the  railroad  would 
be  cut.  This  added  to  the  panic.  Dazed,  mud- 
stained,  deafened  with  the  roar  of  battle,  half  sense- 
less with  intoxication,  thousands  of  stragglers  and 
camp-followers  staggered  through  the  city,  joining 
the  mad  rush.  "To  the  north!  To  the  north!" 
was  the  one  thought,  the  one  wild  cry.  Emerging 
from  the  densely  populated  town,  the  throng  of 
refugees  fled  up  the  valley.  Wherever  the  defile 
narrowed,  the  crowd  crushed  together,  screaming, 
pushing,  fighting  their  way  on ;  through  back  alleys 
of  little  villages  on  the  route;  along  the  railroad 


2Q2  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

track,  separating  to  allow  a  train  to  roar  through 
their  midst,  shaking  frenzied  fists  at  it  as  it  passed 
and  left  them  behind ;  flinging  away  food,  clothing, 
household  treasures  to  which  they  had  thus  far 
clung  mechanically;  shouted  at  by  retreating  bat- 
talions whose  progress  they  blocked,  and  cursed  by 
artillery-men  as  the  horses  sprang  forward  over  the 
clogged  and  miry  road,  or  crashed  through  the  low 
willows  and  over  mud-walls  surrounding  the  hovels 
of  the  natives;  still  on  and  on,  through  the  black 
night  and  the  chill  grey  dawn,  the  frantic  multi- 
tude streamed  northward  toward  Harbin  and 
safety. 

At  Tie  Pass  there  was  a  halt.  Here  Kouropatkin 
made  a  desperate  attempt  to  stand,  and  did  succeed 
in  checking  the  enemy  until  the  shattered  Russian 
forces  could  reunite  in  the  semblance  of  a  disci- 
plined army,  while  the  wounded,  and  such  stores  and 
guns  as  had  been  saved  from  the  disastrous  defeat, 
were  sent  northward.  Then  the  army  fell  sullenly 
back,  a  few  versts  each  day,  repulsing  the  attacks 
of  the  exhausted  Japanese.  These  attacks  dimin- 
ished in  number  and  force,  until  Kouropatkin  could 
breathe  more  freely  and  even  consider  establishing 
a  new  line  of  permanent  defence.  Before,  however, 
he  could  reorganise  his  troops  or  lay  out  a  single 
line  of  fortifications  a  despatch  flashed  over  the 
wires  from  St.  Petersburg  removing  him  from  the 


THE  LITTLE  FATHER.  £93 

supreme  command  of  the  army  and  appointing 
General  Linevitch,  his  former  subordinate,  in  his 
place. 

Like  a  brave  and  generous  soldier  he  not  only 
laid  down  his  command  without  a  word  of  pro- 
test, but  at  once  petitioned  for  and  obtained  per- 
mission to  serve  under  Linevitch.  Truly,  the 
"  Little  Father* '  had  reason  to  be  proud  of  his 
children ! 

But  the  Czar  of  all  the  Russias,  in  his  white 
palace  on  the  Neva,  had  cares  beyond  even  those 
which  gathered,  bat-winged,  around  the  prospects 
of  his  army  in  the  Far  East.  Throughout  his  vast 
realm,  from  the  Caucasus  to  the  Baltic,  from  Sebas- 
topol  to  the  Arctic  Seas,  in  the  remote  provinces 
and  at  the  very  gates  of  his  palace,  signs  multiplied 
that  a  long-dreaded  event  was  coming  to  pass :  the 
Russian  peasant  was  awakening !  Aroused  by  pro- 
clamations of  Nihilists,  by  sermons  and  appeals 
from  religious  leaders,  by  stinging  words  from  such 
patriots  as  Tolstoi  and  Gorky,  the  peasant  stirred 
in  his  long  sleep,  he  smiled  in  his  stupid,  good- 
humoured,  harmless  way;  he  grew  graver  as  the 
import  of  the  fiery  words  that  were  borne  on  every 
breeze  penetrated  his  dull  brain.  Cruelty — oppres- 
sion— injustice — could  it  be  true?  Nay,  the  Little 
Father  would  put  it  all  right.  They  would  tell 
him  about  it;  they  would  go  to  him  with  these 


294  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

wrongs  as  a  little  child  kneels  at  his  bedside  and 
prays  sleepily  and  trustfully,  to  his  Father  in 
Heaven ;  and  he,  the  Ruler  of  all  the  Russias,  the 
White  Czar,  the  father  of  his  people,  would  listen 
and  would  hear  their  prayer  and  grant  relief,  if  relief 
were  needed. 

A  great  throng  of  such  peasants,  headed  by  a 
priest,  flocked  to  the  city,  asking,  poor,  bewildered 
souls,  to  see  the  Czar,  and  to  be  allowed  to  pray  to 
him.  They  were  rebuffed  and  roughly  ordered 
back  by  men  with  glistening  bayonets.  Then,  still 
childlike  and  foolish,  they  actually  tried  to  force 
their  way  to  their  father's  house,  believing  that 
although  his  minions  might  use  them  rudely,  he, 
whom  they  loved  with  all  their  big,  ignorant,  de- 
voted hearts,  would  suffer  them  to  come  unto  him, 
and  forbid  them  not. 

Another  surge  forward,  over  the  paved  street,  to 
the  fatal  bridge.  '  *  Halt !  Disperse ! ' ' 

They  would  not.  Their  priest  leader  held  his 
cross  aloft  and  waved  them  on. 

Then  it  came — a  rattling  crash  like  the  near  thun- 
der close  upon  the  lightning.  Shrieks  and  moans 
of  dying  men  and  children.  Another  volley,  and 
another.  And  the  Little  Father  was  so  near — could 
he  not  hear  them? 

The  people  fled  from  the  cruel  streets,  the  red 
pavement,  the  hoofs  of  the  war-horses  and  the  flash- 


THE  LITTLE  FATHER.  2$$ 

ing  sabres  of  their  riders.  Back,  in  a  helpless, 
frightened  throng,  to  the  open  country,  as  the  fugi- 
tives fled  from  Moukden.  But  the  fierce  enemy 
that  was  behind  them  was  no  foreign  foe,  thirsting 
for  their  lives.  It  was  their  Little  Father ! 

Did  the  young,  black-bearded  Czar  think  of  all 
this,  as  he  sat  in  his  gorgeously  draped  throne  room 
in  the  palace?  Did  his  cheeks  blanch  and  his  lips 
quiver  at  the  distant  sound  of  musketry  in  the 
streets  of  St.  Petersburg?  Who  can  tell?  Only  He 
who  knoweth  all  hearts  and  whose  love  holds  both 
Czar  and  peasant. 

While  Russia  was  thus  torn  with  internal  troubles, 
the  situation  in  the  East  grew  daily  more  threaten- 
ing. The  danger  was  now  apparent  to  all.  At 
Harbin  the  great  railway  forks,  one  branch  going 
southward  to  Port  Arthur,  and  the  other  continuing 
eastward  to  Vladivostock.  If  the  Japanese,  push- 
ing northward  with  their  victorious  hosts,  could  cut 
the  line  east  of  Harbin  Junction,  Russia's  one  port, 
her  last  hope  of  sea  power  on  the  North  Pacific, 
would  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  Japanese. 

Despatches  were  sent  to  Rojestvensky  to  hurry 
his  ships  to  the  scene  of  war.  Two  squadrons  were 
already  united  under  his  command.  A  third  was 
on  its  way  through  the  Mediterranean,  and  shortly 
afterward  rendezvoused  at  Jiboutil,  near  Aden,  at 
the  southern  end  of  the  Red  Sea.  This  third 


296  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

squadron  was  also  ordered  to  proceed  eastward 
across  the  Indian  Ocean  at  full  speed,  and  over- 
take the  Baltic  fleet  if  possible.  Early  in  April 
Rojestvensky's  ships  were  sighted  off  Acheen,  at 
the  extreme  north-western  point  of  Sumatra. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 
LARKIN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS. 

WHEN  Fred  Larkin  grasped  the  full  signifi- 
cance of  the  situation  in  which  he  found 
himself,  on  awaking  in  the  Manchurian  hut,  he  felt 
that  he  was  nearer  death  than  ever  before  in  all  his 
hardy,  adventurous  life.  At  Santiago,  indeed,  he 
had  thought  himself  led  out  to  execution,  but  this 
had  proved  to  be  a  mistake.  The  Spaniards  were 
but  conducting  him,  under  a  flag  of  truce,  to  the 
American  lines,  where  he  was  exchanged  for  a 
prisoner  of  war,  one  of  their  own  countrymen.  In 
this  lonely  hovel,  in  one  of  the  remotest  and  dreari- 
est districts  of  Manchuria,  cut  off  from  all  hope  of 
help,  not  only  by  the  leagues  that  lay  between  him 
and  the  travelled  road  to  Feng-Weng-Chang,  but 
by  the  storm  which  now  shook  the  hut  with  its 
fierce  blasts;  surrounded  by  lawless  men  who 
thirsted  for  gold  and  cared  not  a  whiff  from  their 
pipes  for  a  human  life;  trapped  by  the  cunning 
guide,  and  completely  at  the  mercy  of  his  wolfish 
captors  as  he  lay  before  them  pinioned  hand  and 

297 


298  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

foot ;  he  realised  in  a  swift  flash  of  thought  that  he 
could  be  saved  by  little  short  of  a  miracle.  Still  he 
would  try.  He  was  not  a  man  to  give  up  while  the 
faintest  shred  of  hope  remained. 

"What  do  you  want,  Kanuka?  "  he  asked  quietly, 
looking  his  treacherous  guide  straight  in  the  eye. 

The  villain  hesitated,  and  Fred  knew  his  life  hung 
by  a  hair.  The  blade  did  not  fall. 

"We  want  everything  you  have,  everything!" 
said  Kanuka.  "If  you  resist  we  kill  you." 

"You  would  gain  nothing  by  that,"  said  the 
prisoner.  "I  am  perfectly  helpless.  Who  are — 
your  friends? " 

"They  are  not  my  friends;  they  are  my  men.  If 
I  lift  my  finger  to  them,  you  are  dead.  Is  it  not 
so?"  he  added,  turning  to  the  motley  crew  and 
speaking  in  his  own  tongue. 

A  low  snarl  went  round  the  circle,  and  they 
showed  their  teeth.  They  drew  still  nearer,  and 
fingered  the  hafts  of  their  knives,  which  Fred  could 
see  sticking  in  their  girdles.  Two  of  the  men  car- 
ried guns.  One  of  the  band,  younger  than  the  rest, 
seemed  to  have  no  weapons,  and  remained  in  the 
background.  The  old  woman  had  succeeded  in 
getting  possession  of  the  watch  and  dangled  it  so 
that  the  light  shone  upon  it. 

"I  don't  doubt  your  word,  Kanuka,"  observed 
Fred  in  the  same  calm,  even  tones.  "Those  fol- 


LARK  IN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS.          299 

lowers  of  yours  seem  quite  willing  to  finish  up  the 
job.  But  you  know  better  than  that.  You  are  an 
intelligent  man." 

The  guide  could  not  conceal  a  gratified  expres- 
sion, and  drew  himself  up  a  little. 

"  You  know,"  continued  the  reporter,  "that  if  I 
should  be  killed  there  would  be  a  hue  and  cry  after 
the  American  war  correspondent.  The  newspaper 
I  represent  would  spend  a  fortune  in  hunting  down 
every  man  that  took  part  in  the  murder.  Very 
likely  the  United  States  Government  would  take 
the  matter  up,  and  you  would  be  caught  and  exe- 
cuted, every  man  of  you,  at  Pekin,  if  it  took  ten 
years.  Probably  you  remember  what  happened  to 
the  men  that  put  two  or  three  American  mission- 
aries to  death,  a  few  years  ago?  Yes,  I  thought  so. 
And  the  Chinese  method  of  execution  is  so  very 
unpleasant,  in  such  cases!  " 

Kanuka  stood  erect,  motioned  back  his  men,  and 
gnawed  his  moustache,  frowning  irresolutely. 

"You  joke!  "  said  he,  with  a  meaning  gesture  of 
his  knife. 

"Joke?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  never  felt  less  like 
joking,"  said  Fred  honestly.  "I  want  to  get  out 
of  this  scrape  alive,  and  to  do  that,  I  must  save 
you.  If  I  die,  you  die,  and  the  old  lady  and  your 
hopeful  crowd  there,  as  sure  as  fate.  Pekin  never 
lets  an  international  offence  go;  and  if  Pekin  would, 


30O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Washington  would  n't.  You  know  that  as  well  as 
I  do." 

"What  you  propose? "  asked  the  chief. 

"Well,  as  I  said,  I  can't  help  your  taking  all  my 
worldly  goods,"  said  the  reporter.  "The  next 
thing  is  to  get  rid  of  me  without  imperilling  your 
own  head — or  limbs,"  he  added  significantly.  The 
bandit  shuddered  in  spite  of  himself.  He  had  wit- 
nessed the  execution  of  a  Boxer  murderer,-  near 
Pekin.  Fred  went  on:  "I  would  suggest  that  as 
soon  as  the  storm  will  permit  you  to  move — I  as- 
sure you  I  am  ready  to  take  considerable  risk  on 
the  road — you  take  me,  blindfolded  if  you  wish,  to 
some  point  from  which  I  can  strike  out  for  the 
settlements.  You,  meanwhile,  with  your  men, 
could  make  tracks  for  parts  unknown — of  which 
there  happens  to  be  a  good  supply  within  easy 
reach  of  this  forsaken  hole. ' ' 

"You  would  inform  on  us,"  growled  the  ex-guide. 
"We  should  have  Japanese  police  on  our  trail  in 
twenty-four  hours." 

"I  would  give  you  my  word  of  honour " 

The  rascal  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "I  would  not 
trust  you.  You  newspaper  men  tell  what  stories 
you  like." 

Fred  flushed,  and  felt  an  overpowering  desire  to 
plant  one  good  blow  between  the  man's  sulky, 
sneering  eyes. 


LARKIN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS.          30 1 

"Oh,  well,"  he  said,  "settle  it  yourself.  You 
asked  my  advice  and  I  've  given  it.  When  the 
Chinese  authorities  are  getting  ready  to  deal  with 
you,  don't  blame  me,  that  's  all." 

Kanuka  turned  'to  his  men  and  talked  to  them 
rapidly  and  in  low  tones.  So  far  as  Fred  could 
judge,  the  old  crone  and  the  youngest  of  the  ban- 
dits, who,  he  afterward  learned,  was  her  son,  were 
advocating  his  liberation.  The  rest  clamoured  for 
blood.  The  chief  seemed  undecided,  and  fingered 
his  knife  nervously.  At  last  he  spoke  to  his  follow- 
ers sharply,  with  an  abrupt  gesture  of  dismissal. 
To  Fred's  relief  they  all  filed  out,  leaving  him  alone 
with  the  chief. 

"They  think  it  would  be  foolish  to  let  you  go," 
said  the  latter.  "Dead  men  tell  no  tales.  But 
they  are  beasts — pooh !  As  you  say,  I  am  an  intel- 
ligent man.  You  shall  not  die  to-night.  In  the 
morning  we  shall  see. " 

He  knelt  again  beside  his  prisoner  and  rummaged 
his  pockets  thoroughly,  drawing  out  their  contents 
and  surveying  them  by  the  light  of  the  lamp.  The 
papers  he  threw  contemptuously  into  the  fireplace; 
the  silver  change  and  small  articles  he  thrust  into 
his  own  pouch.  Fortunately  Fred  had  taken  a 
purse  containing  about  fifty  dollars  worth  of  gold 
pieces,  to  use  on  his  trip.  To  the  Manchurian  this 
was  an  enormous  sum  of  money,  and  it  did  not 


302  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

occur  to  him  to  examine  his  captive's  belt,  which 
contained  a  much  larger  amount. 

''Look  here,  old  chap,"  said  Fred,  as  Kanuka  rose 
to  his  feet  with  his  plunder,  "ease  up  these  ropes 
a  little,  will  you?  They  cut  me,  and  I  want  to 
sleep." 

The  man  gave  a  contemptuous  grunt,  and,  be- 
stowing a  kick  on  the  helpless  prisoner,  retired 
without  a  word.  Again  Fred's  blood  boiled,  but 
he  realised  his  utter  helplessness,  and  lay  quietly, 
trying  to  concoct  some  plan  for  escape,  or  for 
action,  on  the  following  day. 

It  was  evident  that  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  that  dangerous  and  as  yet  only  partly  understood 
power,  the  Boxer  element  of  north-eastern  China. 
In  1901  these  bandits,  or  highwaymen, — for  such 
they  really  were,  and  are — terrorised  a  district  ex- 
tending from  Newchwang  to  Kirin.  Their  opera- 
tions were  so  systematic  and  successful  that  Chinese 
as  well  as  foreign  merchants  finally  had  come  to 
recognise  their  authority,  and  it  is  said  that  an  office 
was  actually  established  in  the  port  of  Newchwang 
where  persons  desiring  to  import  goods  might  secure 
insurance  against  molestation  from  the  robbers. 
When  the  insurance  was  paid  for,  the  bandit  agent 
gave  the  merchant  a  document  and  a  little  flag,  and 
with  this  document  in  his  possession,  and  the  flag 
nailed  to  his  cart  or  boat,  he  travelled  in  safety. 


LARK  IN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS.          303 

As  soon  as  the  real  Boxer  movement  was  disposed 
of  by  the  Powers,  and  by  China  herself,  the  Rus- 
sians undertook  the  suppression  of  this  systematic 
brigandage,  by  which  some  thousands  of  outlaws 
were  living  in  insolent  security.  Moukden  was 
garrisoned  with  twelve  thousand  soldiers,  and  troops 
took  the  field  against  the  robbers.  In  less  than  six 
weeks  three  thousand  bandits  were  killed  and  nearly 
as  many  captured.  The  remainder  scattered  and 
fled  to  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains,  where  they 
were  hunted  like  wild  beasts.  As  an  organised 
force,  they  were,  indeed,  "suppressed";  but  strong 
gangs  of  criminals  escaped,  and  during  the  early 
months  of  the  Japanese  war  they  gained  courage 
and  assumed  their  unlawful  calling  with  something 
of  their  former  boldness. 

Fred  knew  all  this — he  had  followed  the  recent 
history  of  China  carefully— and  he  had  no  doubt 
whatever  that  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  one 
of  the  scattered  bands  of  this  still  powerful  organisa- 
tion. He  knew,  moreover,  that  a  more  daring  and 
remorseless  set  of  men  never  gained  their  living  by 
highway  robbery  than  these  same  bandits,  through 
whose  agent,  Kanuka,  they  had  so  cleverly  en- 
trapped him. 

Revolving  these  things  in  his  mind  and  trying  to 
concoct  some  sort  of  plan  for  escape,  the  reporter 
at  last  fell  asleep  from  sheer  exhaustion,  in  spite  of 


304  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

the  pain  caused  by  his  bonds,  and  the  presence  of 
two  bandits  who  had  remained  to  watch  the  prisoner. 

When  he  awoke  it  was  broad  daylight.  The  mis- 
tress of  the  hut  was  occupied  in  preparing  another 
seething  mess  over  the  fire,  exactly  as  she  had  been 
when  he  entered  the  hut.  Fred  felt  lame  and  sore 
from  head  to  foot,  and  soon  discovered,  moreover, 
that  he  had  taken  a  severe  cold.  He  was  hot  and 
feverish,  and  had  a  weak  longing  for  his  mother's 
cool,  soft  hands  upon  his  burning  forehead. 

The  old  hag  presently  lifted  the  pot  from  the 
fire,  groaning  as  she  did  so. 

"I  wish  I  could  help  you,  ma'am,"  said  Fred, 
trying  to  assume  a  cheerful  tone,  "but  'circum- 
stances over  which  I  have  no  control,'  you  know!  " 

She  seemed  to  gather  the  import  of  his  words — 
perhaps  remembering  his  courteous  assistance  on 
the  preceding  night — and  dishing  out  a  portion  of 
the  nauseous  mess  offered  it  to  him.  When  she 
saw  that  he  was  so  tightly  bound  that  he  could  not 
help  himself  to  food  she  uttered  an  exclamation  in 
which  he  recognised  the  first  hint  of  pity  among  his 
captors.  Looking  over  her  shoulder  with  evident 
apprehension,  she  freed  his  right  arm,  and  when  he 
indicated  with  a  feeble  smile  and  shake  of  his  head 
that  it  was  benumbed,  she  rubbed  it  with  a  not  un- 
womanly touch  until  he  could  use  it  and  feed  him- 
self. Having  forced  down  a  little  of  the  distasteful 


LARKIN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS.          305 

food,  to  avoid  hurting  her  feelings,  he  lay  back  on 
his  couch  and  motioned  to  her  to  lay  the  rope 
lightly  over  his  arm,  giving  it  its  former  appearance 
of  confinement.  This  she  did  at  once,  and  not  too 
soon,  for  the  whole  gang  of  seven  men,  including 
Kanuka,  trooped  in  for  their  breakfast  a  minute  later. 

The  storm  continued  through  the  day,  and  Fred 
found  his  condition  unchanged,  save  that  he  was 
allowed  to  walk  about  the  room  a  little,  under 
guard  of  three  of  the  ugliest-looking  of  the  bandits. 
As  night  came  on  once  more,  his  feverishness  in- 
creased. He  felt  faint  and  giddy.  He  had  no 
doubt  that  his  drink  was  drugged  the  day  before, 
and  it  was  quite  possible  that  the  process — though 
for  what  purpose  he  could  not  guess — was  being 
kept  up.  He  was  too  feeble  to  care  much  what  he 
ate  or  drank.  All  he  wanted  was  to  be  left  alone. 

At  about  midnight  on  the  second  night  in  the 
hut,  as  the  sick  man  was  tossing  on  his  filthy  bed, 
the  inner  door  of  the  room  opened  softly,  and  the 
woman  appeared,  shading  the  flame  of  the  lamp 
with  her  hand.  Her  son,  who  had  been  left  on 
guard,  was  standing  silently  by  the  window,  gun  in 
hand.  The  aged  crone  now  knelt  beside  Fred,  and 
noiselessly  cast  off  the  ropes,  which  had  been  tied 
with  less  caution  than  at  first,  it  being  deemed  im- 
possible that  the  captive,  weakened  as  he  was,  could 
make  his  escape.  Fred  managed  to  gain  his  feet, 


306  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

and  stood  stiffly,  half  supported  by  the  woman. 
She  led  him  to  the  outer  door,  which  she  opened. 
The  stars  were  shining,  and  it  was  bitter  cold.  The 
young  bandit  now  slipped  around  the  corner  of 
the  house  and  presently  reappeared  with  one  of  the 
ponies,  upon  which  Fred  managed  to  scramble. 
The  old  woman  gave  the  reporter  a  soft  pat  on  the 
back  and  whispered  something  to  her  son,  who 
stooped  and  kissed  her!  Then  she  went  into  the 
house,  wiping  her  eyes  on  her  ragged  skirt,  and 
leaving  the  two  men  outside,  free. 

Fred  soon  found  that  he  could  not  sit  upright  in 
the  saddle  without  help,  and  the  bandit,  slinging 
his  gun  over  his  back,  put  his  arm  around  the  rider 
and  so  held  him  on,  while  the  pony  picked  his  way 
down  the  mountain  trail.  In  places  the  drifts  made 
the  path  almost  impassable.  The  wind  still  swept 
fiercely  through  the  defile,  although  the  night  was 
clear.  Once  the  young  robber  stopped  suddenly 
and  unslung  his  rifle;  but  the  noise  he  had  heard 
was  but  that  of  a  falling  tree,  and  he  resumed  his 
steady  walk  beside  the  pony. 

How  he  survived  that  night  Fred  never  knew. 
It  was  a  vague,  horrible  dream  of  snow  and  ice,  of 
piercing  chills  and  fever  heats,  of  monotonous  plod- 
ding through  the  snow,  alternating  with  plunging 
descents  over  rough  ground,  that  seemed  to  jar  him 
to  pieces,  while  every  bone  and  muscle  was  a  sepa- 


LARKIN  RETIRES  FROM  BUSINESS.          307 

rate  anguish.  Still  on  and  on,  the  guide  saying 
never  a  word. 

Before  dawn  Fred  dimly  understood  that  they 
had  struck  the  main  road  to  Wiju.  Less  snow  had 
fallen  here,  and  their  progress  was  more  rapid. 
Early  in  the  forenoon  the  noise  of  wheels  and  loud 
voices  was  heard  on  the  path  behind  them. 
Whether  or  not  it  was  a  band  of  pursuers  he  neither 
knew  nor  cared.  The  world  was  one  wide  horror 
of  pain  and  glaring  light  and  bursting  misery  of 
head  and  limb. 

The  cavalcade  in  the  rear  overtook  the  rider.  It 
was  a  train  of  three  ambulance  carts  returning  from 
the  front  with  wounded  Japanese.  The  guide  spoke 
briefly  to  the  leader  and  Fred  was  lifted  from  his 
horse  with  delicate  brown  hands  as  gentle  as  a 
woman's,  and  was  placed  on  a  cot  in  one  of  the 
wagons.  The  young  bandit  disappeared.  Fred 
never  saw  him  again. 

Four  days  later  the  editor-in-chief  of  the  Bulletin 
took  up  a  bit  of  yellow  paper  and  read:  "Frederic 
Larkin,  Correspondent,  sick  in  hospital  at  Hiro- 
shima." 

The  chief  smiled  grimly  as  he  laid  down  the  cable 
despatch. 

"In  one  of  his  scrapes  again!"  he  said,  tossing 
the  paper  over  to  his  sub.  "We  shall  have  to 
depend  on  the  Associated  for  a  while!  " 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

"THE  DESTINY    OF    AN   EMPIRE." 

ON  the  morning  of  the  twenty-seventh  of  May  a 
light  fog  hung  over  the  Yellow  Sea  and  the 
Straits  of  Korea.  Gulls  sailed  in  leisurely  fashion 
above  the  dull-green  surface  of  the  water,  or  dropped 
with  sudden  scream  as  their  keen  eyes  discerned 
some  floating  scrap  of  food;  but  the  supply  was 
scarce,  for  few  ships  had  of  late  passed  that  way, 
and  the  sea,  ordinarily  alive  with  junks  and  steamers 
and  modern  sailing  craft,  was  as  deserted  as  some 
far-off  Polar  bay  which  no  adventurer's  keel  had  yet 
ploughed. 

The  gulls  seemed  uneasy,  in  spite  of  the  desolate- 
ness  of  the  broad  expanse  of  heaving  swell.  They 
called  to  each  other  with  warning  cries  as  if  some 
hidden  danger  were  near.  What  lay  concealed  be- 
neath those  fleecy  folds  of  mist,  which  already 
began  to  mellow  to  golden  in  the  rays  of  the  rising 
sun,  and  to  drift  southward  before  the  light  breeze 
which  was  springing  up?  What  would  be  revealed 
when  the  white  curtain  should  lift? 

308 


"  THE  DESTINY  OF  AN  EMPIRE."  309 

For  many  weeks,  since  the  day  when  the  Russian 
fleet  passed  the  Straits  of  Malacca  and  had  been  re- 
ported from  Singapore,  the  naval  forces  of  Japan 
had  seemed  hardly  more  than  a  myth.  "Where  is 
Togo?"  was  the  question  on  every  lip.  "Will  he 
proceed  southward  and  meet  the  enemy  in  the 
China  Sea?  Will  he  lie  in  wait  for  them  between 
Formosa  and  the  mainland — that  mine-strewn  sea 
where  the  fair  Isles  of  the  Fishermen,  bristling  with 
fortifications,  bait  the  open  trap?  Will  he  lure 
them  eastward,  past  the  Philippines,  to  the  Pacific, 
and  attack  them  there,  or  will  Japan  allow  her 
enemy  to  take  refuge  in  her  one  port  of  Vladivo- 
stock,  there  to  be  brought  to  bay  and  pulled  down 
as  were  her  proud  battle-ships  and  cruisers  at  Port 
Arthur? 

Back  and  forth  under  the  sea  flashed  the  ques- 
tions and  the  appeals  for  news ;  but  Japan  gave  no 
answer;  her  admiral  was  dumb.  He  and  his  ships 
disappeared  from  view.  Newspaper  correspondents 
burdened  the  cables  with  surmises,  but  no  news. 
Every  naval  expert  had  his  opinion  to  give — at 
space  rates — but  home  editors  and  the  great,  wait- 
ing, impatient  public  clamoured  in  vain  for  authen- 
tic information. 

At  the  War  Office  in  Tokio  a  few  men,  small  of 
stature  and  suave  in  demeanour,  bowed  and  smiled 
as  of  old.  They  were  gentle,  courteous,  mild,  and 


310  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

inscrutable.  They  received  and  sent  despatches 
without  a  gleam  of  emotion  in  their  dark  faces. 
They  saw,  in  these  despatches  the  North  Pacific, 
with  each  bay  and  port  and  headland,  the  ap- 
proaching Muscovite  enemy  and  the  leashed  fleet  of 
Japan,  as  a  crystal-gazer  holds  a  far-off  scene  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand.  One  day  their  smiles  faded, 
for  a  moment,  and  their  eyes  grew  stern  as  they 
dictated  a  new  order.  They  were  crushing  an 
empire. 

In  the  Winter  Palace  of  Tsarskoe-Selo  a  slightly 
built  young  man  with  a  dark  beard  and  pale,  irreso- 
lute countenance  paced  the  marble  floor  nervously. 
He  had  seen  his  proudest  fortress  in  the  East  re- 
duced to  submission ;  his  armies,  whose  watchword 
had  been,  "Russia  never  withdraws,"  driven  back, 
beaten,  overwhelmed  by  the  soldiers  of  despised 
Nippon ;  his  war-ships  tortured  by  shot  and  shell, 
by  enemies  upon  the  sea  and  beneath  its  waters; 
and  he  had  read  report  after  report  of  their  loss  and 
of  the  death  of  countless  thousands  of  men,  "at 
the  Czar's  command."  And  now  his  new  fleet, 
brought  together  and  built  up  at  enormous  expense, 
but  ill-manned  and  ill-managed,  had  all  but  finished 
its  long  voyage,  and  had  entered  hostile  seas. 
Upon  this  fleet  hung  all  his  hope  of  retrieving  the 
disasters  of  the  war.  One  great  naval  victory,  and 
Russia  would  be  wild  with  joy.  The  past  would  be 


"  THE  DESTINY  OF  AN  EMPIRE."  311 

forgotten  and  the  name  of  the  Little  Father  once 
more  revered. 

The  Baltic  fleet  halted,  for  coal  and  provisions, 
off  the  friendly  port  of  Saigon,  the  leading  city  of 
the  French  possessions  in  Lower  China.  Neboga- 
toff,  with  a  third  squadron,  was  hurrying  across  the 
Indian  Ocean  to  join  Rojestvensky,  who  now  anx- 
iously awaited  his  approach.  The  sympathies  of 
the  French  ports  were  but  half  concealed;  the 
needed  supplies  came  in  abundance.  Japan  calmly 
but  sternly  remonstrated  at  this  apparent  breach 
of  neutrality,  and  France  was  obliged  to  warn  the 
Russians  off  her  coast.  Nebogatoff,  however,  had 
succeeded  in  adding  his  ships  to  those  of  the 
larger  squadrons,  and  Rojestvensky,  with  his  entire 
fleet  coaled  and  provisioned,  was  now  ready  for  the 
decisive  battle.  Week  after  week  passed,  and  still 
no  smoke  of  the  hostile  armada  appeared  on  the 
northern  horizon.  Compelled  to  change  his  station 
day  by  day,  the  Russian  moved  nervously  here  and 
there  in  the  China  Sea  inviting  attack.  He  sent 
out  reports  that  he  was  about  to  essay  the  narrow 
passage  west  of  Formosa,  either  east  or  west  of  the 
Pescadores ;  he  harboured  his  fleet  under  the  lee  of 
the  great  island  of  Hainan ;  he  professed  an  inten- 
tion to  thread  the  dangerous  passages  north  of 
Luzon  and  make  a  dash  across  the  open  Pacific,  for 
the  friendly  port.  Still  the  wily  Japanese  remained 


312  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

silent,  unheard,  unseen,  until  the  supplies  of  her 
harassed,  perplexed,  impatient  enemy  once  more 
diminished  and  her  bunkers  were  again  nearly  empty. 

At  last,  driven  to  desperation  by  the  refusal  of  the 
inscrutable,  invisible  foe  to  emerge  from  the  obscur- 
ity where  he  lurked,  Rojestvensky  set  the  signal  to 
advance.  He  hoped  that  the  Japanese  had  been 
misled  by  rumours  of  his  escape  to  the  open  Pacific, 
and  that  by  a  direct  course  northward  through  the 
Korean  Straits  he  could  reach  Vladivostock,  now 
so  few  miles  away,  after  his  weary  seven  months' 
voyage  from  the  Baltic.  The  fog  of  the  early 
morning  was  dense.  No  scout-ship  of  the  enemy 
was  visible.  It  would  take  time  to  notify  Togo  of 
any  movement  of  his  adversary.  Forming  in 
double  line,  with  strict  orders  for  silence  through- 
out every  ship,  the  great  flotilla  got  under  way  and 
started  northward  through  the  early  morning  mist. 

In  days  gone  by  the  leader  of  an  armed  force 
could  obtain  information  of  the  manoeuvres  of  his 
enemy  only  by  means  of  trusty  couriers.  Later, 
written  messages  were  despatched  by  aides,  who 
brought  the  news  and  conveyed  orders,  riding  hard 
or  traversing  the  sea  in  swift  boats.  Centuries 
passed  and  the  telegraph  began  to  play  its  part  in 
the  transmission  of  despatches,  to  be  succeeded  in 
its  turn  by  the  field  telephone.  But  as  the  Russo- 
Japanese  war  brought  into  practical  use  for  the  first 


"  THE  D£STINY  OF  AN  EMPIRE."  313 

time  the  terrible  submarine  torpedo-boat,  so  it 
found  a  new  and  marvellous  medium  for  communi- 
cation between  headquarters  and  outposts  of  an 
army  or  fleet.  The  ancient  Samurai  of  Nippon 
fought  with  two  swords;  their  descendants  in  1905 
wielded  the  submarine  and  the  wireless  telegraph. 
As  Rojestvensky's  sombre  fleet  moved  forward 
there  were  no  armed  scouts  dashing  across  the 
waves  to  announce  their  coming ;  the  electric  cable, 
far  below,  was  dumb ;  but  the  very  sky  above,  the 
waters  that  were  ploughed  by  the  black  keels,  at 
the  moment  when  the  harassed  Russians  began  to 
breathe  freely,  were  betraying  them. 

"At  exactly  5.30  A.M.,  on  Saturday,  May  27th, 
a  wireless  message  was  received  at  the  naval  base  of 
the  Japanese :  '  The  enemy's  squadron  is  in  sight. '  ' 

Under  shelter  of  the  island  off  Fusan,  on  the  east 
coast  of  Korea,  lay  sixty  or  more  grey  ships,  their 
fires  banked,  smoke  slowly  floating  from  their 
stacks.  They  had  lain  thus  for  weeks,  waiting  for 
that  message.  The  instant  it  was  received  the 
decks  of  every  vessel  became  alive  with  nimble 
sailors.  Cables  were  slipped,  fires  scattered  and 
heaped  high  with  coal,  ammunition-hoists  handled, 
and  garments  flung  aside  as  the  men  stripped  for 
action.  The  fleet  slowly  moved  eastward  over  the 
waters  of  the  Japan  Sea,  which  roughened  under 
the  wind  that  gathered  force  as  day  broadened. 


314  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

Eagerly  the  small  brown  fighting  men  sprang  to 
quarters  and  pointed  to  the  east,  where  the  sky 
grew  golden  with  the  emblem  of  their  nation,  the 
Rising  Sun. 

Before  noon  wireless  messages  brought  news  that 
the  Russian  fleet  had  chosen  the  eastern  passage  of 
the  Straits,  between  the  Tsu  Islands  and  Japan. 
At  two  o'clock  the  smoke  of  Rojestvensky's  flag- 
ship blurred  the  southern  horizon.  Instantly  a  line 
of  signal  flags  fluttered  to  the  yard-arm  of  the 
Japanese  battle-ship  Mikasa  :  "The  destiny  of  an 
empire  depends  upon  this  action.  You  are  all  ex- 
pected to  do  your  uttermost." 

Straight  on,  with  superb  courage,  came  the  ar- 
mada of  the  White  Czar.  In  the  double  column  the 
weaker  ships  held  the  port  positions,  thus  offering 
the  least  resistance  to  attack  on  that  side,  and  at 
the  same  time  blanketing  the  fire  of  the  heavier 
turrent  guns  of  their  own  first-class  battle-ships. 

A  roll  of  smoke  burst  from  the  bows  of  the  Kniaz 
Souvaroff,  followed  almost  instantly  by  a  roar  from 
the  huge  twelve-inch  guns  of  the  Mikasa.  The 
greatest  naval  battle  in  the  history  of  the  world  had 
begun. 

The  action  became  general.  The  Russian  ships 
at  the  opening  of  the  fight  changed  their  course  and 
endeavoured  to  break  through  the  enveloping  line 
of  their  foe,  but  were  driven  back  at  every  point. 


"  THE  DESTINY  OF  AN  EMPIRE."  315 

The  old  tactics  of  Oyama  at  Liaoyang  and  Mouk- 
den  were  repeated  by  Togo  on  the  sea.  Once  more 
the  fatal  horse-shoe  front  closed  in.  To  starboard, 
to  port,  ahead,  and  astern  the  thunders  of  the 
Japanese  guns  dismayed  the  untrained  sailors  of  the 
Baltic  fleet.  Within  less  than  an  hour  the  Borodino 
was  seen  to  be  on  fire.  Five  Japanese  war-ships 
bore  down  upon  her.  To  rescue,  to  save?  To  pour 
a  deadlier  storm  of  shot  and  shell  into  the  doomed 
ship ;  to  pierce  its  wounds  anew,  to  sweep  its  strug- 
gling, bleeding,  shrieking  crew  from  its  decks  and 
send  ship  and  men  to  the  bottom.  Through  and 
through  the  barbette,  and  the  hull  itself,  plunged 
and  exploded  the  steel  projectiles.  Dead  and 
dying  men  lay  in  heaps  everywhere  about  the 
decks;  the  ammunition  hoists  were  wrecked  and 
the  steering-gear  disabled,  so  that  the  great,  tor- 
tured battle-ship  could  only  stagger  over  the  water 
round  and  round  in  a  circle,  her  remaining  guns  still 
firing  at  intervals,  until  the  merciful  waves  swept 
over  her,  and  with  all  on  board,  living  and  dead, 
she  went  down. 

The  flagship  bearing  Admiral  Rojestvensky  was 
early  singled  out  for  attack.  When  the  ship  was  in 
flames  and  in  momentary  danger  of  sinking  the 
admiral  was  transferred  to  a  destroyer,  from  which 
he  was  soon  after  taken  by  the  Japanese  and  sent 
ashore,  a  prisoner,  severely  wounded. 


316  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

So  the  battle  raged,  and  vessel  after  vessel,  bear- 
ing the  Russian  flag,  was  battered  to  pieces  and 
sent  to  the  bottom,  while  Togo's  fleet  seemed  to 
bear  a  charmed  life.  At  last  the  merciful  night, 
that  so  often  has  laid  its  quieting  hand  of  peace 
upon  maddened,  struggling  combatants  by  land  and 
sea,  brooded  over  the  waters  of  the  Sea  of  Japan. 
The  few  ships  from  the  Baltic  that  could  still  move 
under  control  crept  northward  in  the  vain  hope  of 
reaching  safety.  There  was  no  longer  any  dream  of 
victory ;  escape,  escape  from  this  horrible,  relentless 
foe,  was  the  only  thought. 

But  while  the  heavier  ships  had  been  dealing 
deadly  blows  that  fair  May  afternoon,  the  pack  of 
smaller  craft,  the  torpedo-boats  and  destroyers,  had 
been  for  the  most  part  held  back  under  the  lee  of 
the  islands;  held  back  with  difficulty,  for  their 
crews  and  officers  were  wild  to  enter  the  engage- 
ment. In  the  conning-tower  of  the  Fujiyama  Com- 
mander Oto  Owari  chafed  and  fretted  over  the 
forced  inaction,  his  dark  eyes  blazing  and  hands 
twitching.  Before  midnight  the  signal  came  down 
the  line  to  advance. 

Silently,  like  wolves  gathering  about  a  wounded 
herd,  crouching  low  to  the  ground,  the  pack  gath- 
ered around  the  ill-fated,  shattered  fleet.  Then  the 
word  was  given,  and  they  rushed  upon  their  prey. 
Searchlights  flashed  from  the  beleaguered  ships,  as 


"  THE  DESTINY  OF  AN  EMPIRE."  317 

they  bravely  turned  at  bay.  Again  and  again  the 
wolves  were  driven  back.  More  than  one  of  the 
fierce  assailants  never  returned  to  the  charge ;  but 
the  rest  closed  the  gaps,  and  cutting  out  one  after 
another  of  the  Russians,  set  their  teeth  of  steel  into 
her  ribs  until  with  a  great  cry  she  succumbed. 

The  Fujiyama  was  foremost  in  every  rush,  and 
staggered  under  the  blows  she  received.  Oto  was 
everywhere,  with  his  savage  little  ship,  launching 
his  torpedoes  at  the  biggest  vessels  of  the  enemy. 
He  was  in  full  attack  upon  the  Sissoi-  Valiki,  one  of 
Rojestvensky's  finest  battle-ships,  when  a  great  shell 
exploded  just  in  front  of  the  conning-tower  of  the 
destroyer.  It  was  a  fatal  blow.  Oto,  with  a  dozen 
others,  all  of  them  wounded,  was  hurled  into  the 
sea,  from  which  he  was  rescued  and  taken  on  board 
the  Kasuga,  insensible,  and  therefore  blissfully  un- 
conscious that  his  ship  had  gone  to  the  bottom. 
The  fight  drifted  northward. 

Sunday  morning  dawned,  "so  cool,  so  calm,  so 
bright."  The  battle  was  resumed,  each  flying  ship 
of  the  Russians  with  three  or  four  of  the  enemy 
hanging  about  her  and  hammering  her  with  shell 
and  solid  shot.  As  on  the  preceding  day  and  night 
the  terrors  of  the  Baltic  crews  were  increased  by  the 
evident  presence  of  submarines.  Several  of  the 
western  ships,  with  no  hostile  craft  visible  in 
the  open  sea,  had  suddenly  felt  the  impact  of  an 


3l8  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

awful  blow  from  below,  followed  by  an  explosion 
that  tore  her  hull  to  pieces,  while  the  unseen  assail- 
ant darted  off  beneath  the  waves  for  fresh  prey. 

The  terrible  drama  was  brought  to  a  close  by  the 
surrender  of  Admiral  Nebogatoff's  ships,  on  Sun- 
day afternoon,  off  the  rocks  of  Liancourt.  The 
next  morning  the  world  stood  thunderstruck  as  it 
heard  of  the  utter  annihilation  of  Russia's  proud 
fleet.  Six  battle-ships,  five  cruisers,  and  many  other 
smaller  vessels  sunk,  and  two  battle-ships,  with 
several  defence  ships  or  destroyers,  captured.  It 
was  this  last  item  that  was  most  significant.  Even 
Spain  had  gone  down  fighting,  on  the  coast  of  Cuba 
and  off  Manila,  under  the  withering  fire  of  Dewey, 
Sampson,  and  Schley ;  for  the  first  time  in  modern 
warfare  a  battle-ship,  nay,  two  of  them,  had  run  up 
the  white  flag.  Truly  Russia,  haughty  Russia, 
which  "never  carried  to  the  front  material  from 
which  to  make  a  flag  of  truce,"  had  been  humbled 
in  the  dust.  And  in  the  Winter  Palace  of  Tsarkoe- 
Selo  the  pale  young  Czar  was  weeping. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

ORDERED   HOME. 

OW-YOW!"  yawned  Midshipman  Robert 
Starr  in  the  wardroom  of  the  Osprey. 
"I  'm  tired  of  this  dodging  back  and  forth  between 
two  fires,  with  no  chance  for  a  slap  at  either  of 
them.  We  might  have  got  up  a  good  scrap  over 
Junk,  here,"  he  added,  patting  the  Newfoundland's 
broad  head,  and  looking  reproachfully  at  Liddon. 

The  dog  yawned,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  the 
young  officer,  and  stretched  himself  at  full  length 
on  the  deck,  his  paws  under  the  mess-table. 

"You  're  teaching  our  coloured  friend  bad  man- 
ners, Bob,"  laughed  the  ensign,  giving  Junk  a  play- 
ful push  with  his  foot.  "Get  up,  there,  you  old 
peripatetic  door-mat,  and  muster  on  the  forecastle. 
There  's  no  room  for  yawners  down  here." 

"I  consider  that  remark  personal,"  retorted  Bob, 
as  he  rose.  "I  'm  going  to —  Here  he  was  in- 
terrupted by  the  entrance  of  a  marine,  who  an- 
nounced that  the  captain  wished  to  see  his  officers 
in  the  after  cabin. 

319 


32O  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

"What  's  up  now,  I  wonder?  "  said  Staples,  lead- 
ing the  way  to  the  commander's  quarters. 

"Oh,  another  wildly  exciting  cruise  to  Woosung 
or  Chemulpo,  or  Cheefoo,  or  some  other  old  Che," 
sighed  Starr.  "I  never  was  very  fond  of  cheese, 
anyway !  ' ' 

When  they  entered  the  cabin  their  undignified 
deportment  was  laid  aside. 

Rexdale's  eyes  were  sparkling.  He  evidently  had 
important  and  pleasurable  news  to  communicate. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "I  have  just  received 
orders  from  the  Department.  The  Osprey  is  to 
change  her  station  once  more."  Bob  groaned 
softly,  under  his  breath.  "This  time,"  continued 
Dave,  "our  port  of  destination  is  not  Cavite  or 
Shanghai.  We  are  to  sail  due  east.  We  are  ordered 
home!" 

Every  officer  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Hurrah!" 
shouted  Bob,  forgetful  alike  of  dignity  and  dis- 
cipline. "I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  stammered, 
the  blood  rushing  to  his  cheeks;  "but  that  's  grand 
news!  If  the  Secretary  were  here  I  'd  hug  him !  " 

The  commander  now  explained  that  the  Osprey 
was  ordered  to  proceed  to  Mare  Island,  where  she 
would  be  thoroughly  overhauled,  renovated,  and 
practically  remodelled.  She  was  old-fashioned,  but 
the  Department  believed  they  could  make  of  her  a 
valuable  defence  ship,  in  accordance  with  modern 


ORDERED  HOME.  321 

ideas  of  ship-building.  As  soon  as  she  should  go 
out  of  commission  her  officers  and  crew  were  to  re- 
port, some  on  various  war-ships  in  the  eastern 
Pacific,  some  for  shore  duty,  and  still  others,  includ- 
ing the  three  officers- of  highest  rank,  at  Washington, 
where  they  would  be  assigned  to  new  duties.  Bob's 
face  fell  a  little  at  this  announcement,  but  he  was 
happy  in  the  thought  of  a  change,  and  a  sojourn  in 
home  waters.  Little  Dobson  was  one  of  those  who 
were  to  go  on  shore,  and  he  had  visions  of  a  leave  of 
absence  which  would  give  him  time  to  race  across 
the  continent  to  his  own  home  and  that  of  a  certain 
commandant  whose  daughter  was  named  Mary. 
By  the  next  mail  letters  went  to  Wynnie  and  Edith 
Black,  from  Bob  Starr  and  Liddon  respectively.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  Dave  wrote  to  Hallie  within 
two  hours  after  the  receipt  of  the  orders.  The 
news  quickly  spread  through  the  ship,  and  great 
was  the  rejoicing. 

While  the  Russian  fleet  was  irresolutely  moving 
to  and  fro  in  Eastern  waters,  and  Linevitch,  hav- 
ing succeeded  Kouropatkin,  was  reorganising  his 
shattered  army  and  preparing  for  a  new  encounter 
with  the  victorious  Oyama  south  of  Harbin,  the 
women  of  Japan  worked  unceasingly  for  home  and 
country. 

The  great  military  hospital  at  Hiroshima  com- 
prised eight  divisions,  with  a  total  capacity  of 


322  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

seventeen  thousand  beds.  In  the  largest  of  the 
divisions  a  visitor  merely  passing  the  foot  of  each 
bed  would  walk  six  miles.  Nearly  all  of  these  beds 
were  now  occupied,  and  Red  Cross  nurses  from  the 
United  States  passed  to  and  fro  among  the  suffer- 
ers, side  by  side  with  their  dark  sisters  of  the 
Orient,  in  gentlest  ministration. 

Fred  Larkin  had  soon  recovered  sufficiently  to  be 
removed  to  private  quarters,  from  which,  pale  and 
emaciated,  but  with  indomitable  pluck  and  return- 
ing energy,  he  emerged  a  few  weeks  later.  Letters 
from  the  Bulletin  recalled  him  to  Massachusetts, 
and  he  unwillingly  obeyed,  realising  that  the  great 
naval  battle  was  close  at  hand.  He  read  the  news 
of  the  destruction  of  the  Russian  fleet  the  day  after 
his  arrival  in  San  Francisco. 

In  a  small  room — one  of  those  set  apart  for 
officers — a  Japanese  soldier  lay  on  a  cot  bed,  gazing 
languidly  out  of  the  open  window  toward  the  east. 
Walls,  counterpane,  and  the  single  garment — a 
kimono — which  the  patient  wore,  were  of  spotless 
white.  Beside  the  bed  sat  a  little  nurse,  fanning 
the  sick  man,  who  now  and  then  spoke  to  her  in  his 
own  language,  though  so  quietly  that  his  attendant 
could  scarcely  hear  him. 

"O-Hana-San " 

"Yes,  Oshima,  I  am  here!  " 

"The  time?" 


ORDERED  HOME.  323 

"It  is  morning — five  o'clock." 

The  sick  man  was  silent  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  his  eye  fell  upon  a  streak  of  gold  which  fell 
upon  the  wall. 

"Ah!  "  he  said  softly,  "the  rising  sun! " 

Again  he  was  silent.  When  he  spoke  once  more 
he  turned  his  head  toward  the  girl  and  looked  into 
her  eyes. 

"And  —  you  must  go  —  you  must  leave  me, 
Hana?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered  sorrowfully.  "I  am  or- 
dered. The  naval  hospital  at  Sasebo  is  crowded 
with  new  patients  from  the  great  sea  battle.  There 
are  not  nurses  enough.  I  am  ordered  to  go  to- 
day." 

"If  you  find  Oto — tell  him — Oshima  sends  his 
love  by  O-Hana-San.  Tell  him  Oshima  —  is  — 
ordered  home !  Banzai  dai  Nippon  !  " 

His  eyes  closed.  O-Hana-San  bent  over  him, 
then  hurried  for  the  surgeon  on  duty. 

"He  will  not  waken,"  said  that  official.  "He 
was  a  brave  man." 

Two  days  later  a  grey-haired  man  passed  slowly 
out  of  the  door  of  the  villa  that  had  been  the  home 
of  Oshima's  boyhood,  in  the  little  town  by  the  sea. 
He  paused  beside  a  red  slab  which  was  posted  be- 
fore the  house,  and  on  which  was  written,  in  Japan- 
ese characters,  "Gone  to  the  Front."  Then  he 


324  THE  NORTH  PACIFIC. 

stooped  painfully  and  placed  beside  the  first  post 
another,  like  many  in  that  village,  and  before  other 
homes,  all  over  Japan.  It  was  black,  and  bore  the 
simple  inscription,  " Bravery  Forever." 

"Oto,  Oto  Owari!  It  is  I !  See,  it  is  O-Hana- 
San !  I  have  come  to  help  you — to  make  you 
well!" 

Oto  opened  his  eyes  and  turned  his  bandaged 
head  on  the  pillow.  His  little  playmate  of  years 
gone  by  was  kneeling  beside  his  cot,  her  great 
brown  eyes  moist  and  pleading — pleading  with  him 
not  to  die,  not  to  join  Oshima  in  the  strange  un- 
known shadows  to  which  he  had  gone.  She  was 
quite  satisfied  that  her  hero  should  be  deprived  of 
the  inscription  "  Bravery  Forever" — for  the  present 
at  least ! 

It  was  a  hard  fight  for  life,  but  the  good  surgeon 
of  the  ward,  and  the  girl's  unceasing  care,  and  Oto's 
own  fine  constitution  and  determination  to  live  for 
her,  won  the  victory.  While  many  died  on  every 
side,  and  the  mournful  stretchers  came  and  went, 
and  the  black  posts  increased  in  number  throughout 
the  empire,  the  young  commander  steadily  grew 
better,  until  he  was  discharged  "well" ;  to  take  his 
place  once  more,  with  higher  rank,  on  the  quarter- 
deck  of  a  fine  new  cruiser.  On  the  day  when  he 
left  the  hospital  he  married  O-Hana-San.  On  that 


ORDERED  HOME. 

same  day,  the  fifth  of  September,  1905,  the  Treaty 
of  Peace  between  Russia  and  Japan  was  signed  by 
the  envoys  of  the  two  countries  at  Portsmouth, 
New  Hampshire. 

Two  weeks  after -the  great  battle  of  the  Sea  of 
Japan  a  war-ship,  with  hull  white  as  snow,  was 
ploughing  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  with  her  prow 
pointed  due  east.  Land  was  still  in  sight  astern, 
and  over  her  taffrail  floated  the  beautiful  Stars  and 
Stripes.  The  Osprey  was  homeward  bound. 

THE  END. 


BOORS  BY  JAMES  OTIS 

THE  LIFE  SAVERS.     A  Story  of  the  United  States  Life- 
Saving  Service.     Large  I2mo,  328  pages,  illustrated,  $1.50. 

The  story  is  an  exceedingly  good  one,  and  has  interested  me  very  much, 
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.  .  .  Puts  in  the  form  of  a  story  the  obscure  daring  of  the  noble  Amer- 
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Churchman, 

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to  which  it  relates,  is  a  great  and  noble  work,  the  extent  and  value  of  which, 
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"The  Life  Savers"  is  a  fascinating  and  instructive  story  of  the  United 
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THE    LOBSTER    CATCHERS.      A  Story  of  the  Coast  of 
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with  the  subject  proper.  The  author  knows  how  to  tell  a  good  story,  and 
this  is  really  one  of  his  best. — Boston  Transcript. 

The  boy  who  prefers  rather  to  look  around  him  than  backward,  if  he 
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money,  helping  him  on  in  a  life  of  good,  honest  work  and  happiness.  Mr. 
Otis's  books  are  always  right  in  tone,  and  likely  to  encourage  boys  in  straight- 
forward endeavor  rather  than  dazzle  them  by  tales  of  marvellous  good  luck. 
— Christian  Register. 

AN  AMATEUR  FIREMAN — Illustrated  by  WM.  M.  GARY. 

i2tno,  326  pages,  cloth,  gilt  top $i-5o 

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The  story  is  droll,  full  of  action  and  interesting  incident. — Churchman. 


E.  P.  DUTTON  &  CO.,  Publishers 
3i  West  Twenty-third  Street,  New  York 


BOORS  BY  PAUL  CRESWICR 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  HIS  ADVENTURES 

8vo,  cloth,  gilt  top $2.50 

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i2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  illustrated  by  T.  H.  ROBINSON. 

IN  ALFRED'S  DAYS 

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UNDER  THE  BLACK  RAVEN 

Illustrated  by  T.  H.  ROBINSON.     i2mo,  cloth      .     $1.50 

Writers  of  juvenile  fiction  are  awakening  to  the  consciousness  that  the 
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newspaper  and  the  school  book. 

Mr.  Paul  Creswick  gives  it  in  a  story  entitled  "Under  the  Black  Raven," 
and  recounting  the  deeds  of  Sweyn  Harfage,  when,  armed  by  Alfred,  he 
went  forth  to  claim  his  own,  and,  after  much  good  fighting,  won  it,  and  many 
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both  style  and  story. — Boston  Journal. 

A  spirited  and  striking  picture  of  olden  times  in  Denmark  before  Chris- 
tianity dawned  on  that  land.  The  interest  of  the  story  centres  in  the  con- 
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nifying the  emblems  under  which  they  fought. 

The  story  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  rude  wars  of  remote  times. — The 
Outlook. 


E.  P.  DUTTON  &  CO.,  Publishers 
31  West  Twenty-third  Street,  New  York 


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